Category: Dog Tales

Our two senior chihuahuas, Russet and Yukon, had very different appreciations of food. Up until about a year ago, Russet used to be a very picky and selective eater. He would often balk at the food appearing in his dish or skip meals entirely. Not content with his own food, Russet would often be more interested in the EXACT SAME FOOD in Yukon’s dish. Damn! Why does that dog get all the good food?

On the other hand, Yukon, despite having no teeth, was a very enthusiastic eater. Upon being served, she would sprint to her food dish, eat whatever was offered, and lick the dish clean.

Frequently, after finishing the food in her dish, Yukon would check out Russet’s dish for leftovers. But she was a clever dog. She wouldn’t go over and blatantly eat his food in our presence. She would look around and see who might be paying attention to her scheming. For example, after the last feeding of the day, right before bedtime, she would kind of hang back before making her way from the dining room to the bedroom. Yeah, don’t mind me, I’m just going to…uhh…get a drink of water…and uhh… admire the hardwood floors. Go ahead without me, I’ll meet you in the next room shortly.

And on a couple of occasions, Yukon played the following game: She would eat all the food in her dish, save for a few crumbs or remnants. (I’m not sure if this was 100% intentional, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.) Russet, after balking at the food in his dish, would walk over to hers to enjoy a taste of the good food.Yes! And while being distracted by the good food, Yukon would sneak back over to Russet’s dish and enjoy a second serving from his full bowl. 

Russet, the unwitting mark, took the bait and ended up falling for the ole switcheroo. Poor Russet was playing checkers, while Yukon was playing chess. Pawn to decoy, queen to full food dish. Checkmate!

Russet and Chess Master Yukon, in action, on the board

One fine, but abnormally hot evening, I was walking our dog, Russet, and happened across a 50-ish, brown-haired woman walking her respective dog. She observed Russet walking sluggishly and voiced her observation. I defended him and clarified, “He’s taking it easy because it’s hot.” To which she added, “Yeah, he’s like, ‘Fuck that shit!’”

Umm…That was not the particular interpretation I was expecting, ma’am. I literally just met you. I’m not sure why you think it’s OK to drop an F-bomb right in my face, without reservation, without regard for common decency.

But about 10 seconds after walking away from our interaction, I thought, Kudos to you, ma’am. You get me; you speak my language. I appreciate that. Good evening, indeed.

By Russet

Mmm. What? No. NO! Not this again. Why are you rousting me from my blanket? I was asleep. Fuck, man. Why are you ALWAYS waking me up? I’m old. Let me sleep, goddamnit. I don’t need to whiz or eat. If I did, I would get up myself and let you know. 

Yawn. Stretch. Shake.

Oh jeez, you’re putting on my coat. That means we’re going outside for a walk. But I don’t need to go outside, RIGHT NOW. It can wait. Why can’t you just let me keep sleeping? Seriously, you constantly do this to me.

It’s going to be cold outside, much colder than in this warm bed. And since it’s cold outside, of course I’m going to have to pee. Not because I’m full of pee and about to explode, but because you’ve taken me outside, where it’s cold. My point, again—all of this could have waited until later. We would have had the exact same outcome if you had just let me sleep some more.

Man, that walk sucked. I knew it would. Chihuahuas don’t like the cold. We like it when it is warm and sunny outside. That whole stupid walk could have been postponed in favor of more, uninterrupted sleep. At least we returned to the warm building and to a post-walk meal. I’m not that hungry right now, so I might decline to eat the food you’ve set out. You deserve that for waking me up. You probably don’t think that is an intentional act, calculated retribution, tit-for-tat.

All right, now that mealtime is over, I’m going back to bed, to resume sleeping. Please let me sleep until I decide it’s time to wake up. It seems like every time I wake up, it’s because YOU are waking me up. Please just leave me alone and let me sleep, OK? I hope this time you finally understand. 

Oh no, look at this. My blanket is all fucked up. See what you’ve done? I think I can fix it. All right, there’s a good spot. Everything is nice and smooth…and warm…and quiet…and…

Mmm. What? NO! It’s you again. I was asleep! Why are you ALWAYS waking me up?