I’ve mentioned before that we foster dogs for Medical Animals In Need
(MAIN). As of today, we’ve fostered Shelby, Carson, Clarence, Palmer, Elton, Ruby, Diamond, Beverly, and Hudson for MAIN. At least I think that’s all of them. Two of those fosters turned into residents (Shelby and Carson) and one is a Forever Foster (Clarence aka Old Dude). (This was true when I started writing this. As of today, Hudson is our newest foster failure and will be staying indefinitely! I know, I know, but I am in love with the boy.) Today we’re going to focus on Shelby.
Shelby came to us from another MAIN foster who was moving. When Shelby got here, she was umm, well, pshh, let’s just say she was a bit full-figured. Ok, let’s call it what it is, she was at maximum capacity. I’m certain that if she gained any more weight she would have popped and flown around the room like a balloon that had accidentally escaped its blower. What? That’s not mean. I’m allowed to tease her because I’m fat too. That’s fat-girl code. Ask Shelby; I hear dogs can communicate. Keep in mind, Shelby is a Chihuahua and she weighed in at 16 pounds! That’s a very “bloated” sausage-I mean Chihuahua-a very bloated Chihuahua. Girl-code. Seriously though, I felt bad for her; she had to be so uncomfortable. We immediately put her on the pumpkin and green beans diet. She got down to 11 pounds and she looked great. We tried blending her over to just kibble but apparently Shelby is simply predisposed to be a bit on the plump size (welcome to my world Shelby). So it was back to green beans for her and so far she hasn’t complained!
After Shelby’s arrival I quickly realized that she was, uhh, different. Not good different. No, not Shelby. It’s definitely a bad different. Why? Ahh, let me fill you in. Shelby is truly unique in the fact that she works so very hard to push me over the edge on days that I’m teetering. Somehow she just knows when those days are and let-me-tell-you, she is one diligent girl. I mean it’s actually admirable that she’s so determined to drive me insane. She knows I’m on the edge and that it won’t take much to get me over it. And she works it relentlessly. Yes relentlessly. So absolutely relentlessly. Every day of every week of every month of every year. Ok, I may have gotten carried away there. No. No I didn’t.
So that’s how Shelby is with me. How is she with my husband you ask? Hah! Shelby was really quick to warm up to him. Maybe because he’s the one who feeds her. Girl-code. She was never a fan of mine; but she would follow Marc around the house. She would just sit on the floor staring at him until he picked her up.
You see, she was too tubby to get on the sofa herself. Girl-code. She would just sit in his lap for hours. Me? She would all but give me the finger. She truly could not be bothered with me. This was two years ago. Yea she’s still the same today. I’ll call her and the little terd looks at me, over her shoulder, while she’s walking away from me. If I talk to her, she gives me a look that I swear means, “Piss off.” She seriously cannot be troubled. Oh wait! One thing has changed in the past two years. Now she climbs into my lap. Sweet right? Nope. It’s only so she can get to the chair she loves.
There’s something else that Shelby does just to mess with me. I’ve never seen her laugh right to my face but I’m certain she does and one day I will catch her. Here’s how it goes…We have two dog beds in our living room area. One of them is next to my desk. Since I’m at my computer a lot I’m obviously near the bed a lot. Well, Shelby has this thing where she randomly growls and yells at the same time which turns into one extremely loud freakin’ outburst. She sounds like Cujo and she does this when she’s by herself so it’s not like one of the other dogs provokes her. There simply is no reason for what she does. She can be sound asleep and BAM she yells/growls/yaps so loud. So, freakin’ loud. And it absolutely scares the crap out of me. Every-single-time. When I say scares me, I’m talking about making me jump so my ass comes off my chair as I’m simultaneously leaning back and my hands fly away from my body as if I’ve lost total control of myself. My chair wheels make a crashing type sound and I imagine that I look like I’m on a roller coaster rather than in my own living room. As all of that is going on I let out my own scream. Partly because she just scared the crap out of me and partly because I’m afraid she just made me pee on the chair. Then I give her the look, but all I get in return is her look and I’m much more scared of her than she is of me. I know you’re thinking, “Just move the bed.” Hah, I wish it was that easy.
It doesn’t matter if she’s clear across the room and does it. She’s just louder and still scares the crap out of me! She is no amateur when it comes to ~ WAIT! I just realized that I’m being controlled by an 11 pound Chihuahua with a bad attitude. Well damn!