My Chihuahua/Manchester was a character. They called him the "deer type" cross At times, when he knew I was around, he seemed to gain immense unsubstantiated courage.
We were at one of our more primitive deer leases, so we brought our little travel trailer early during bird season to have it there for deer season.
I had let the little fugger outside and went to read s book for a bit. Rusty started barking and then. yip yip yip. I get up and go outside and see him playin' bullfighter with this big ass bull. He'd run around and bark at the bull and when the bull turned towards him, he's run off yipping. As soon as this little stinker saw me coming out of the trailer, He got BRAVE!
He spun around the bull and latched on the bull's "low-hanging fruit"!
I was dying laughing with the bull swinging in circles with my dog hanging on for dear life. I realize this bull could hurt my dog. For as much silly crap he would do, he was actually pretty damn smart and minded me almost flawlessly. I started training him the moment I got him when he could ride in my shirt pocket.
I hollered at my dog to stop and run. He climbed on top of the cement cistern( he loved swimming and cooling off in it) and looked down on the bull...........teasing the bull. I just picked up an old small cedar fence post and threw it at the bull and he ran off......I knew he was a big puss so I really wasn't worried, but I had my escape route in mind.
Once the bull left, he came down, sat in front of me panting and waging that tail 90per! He looked at me with that well known expression that said to me, "Damn! That was fun! What's next?"
He sure was a good dog and not one of those little psychotic nutjobs that most dogs with Chihuahua blood. He was lost when I joined the Navy. His other favorite person, my GrandMa, had just passed, so he couldn't go visit her. He finally settled with Dad and adopted him as his pack leader.
I was due for leave and planned to go home. The little shit was over 13yrs old and Mom told me he may not make it for my leave. Mom kept telling him I was gonna be back soon. I made it home before he passed. As always, it was like I never left and in his mind. We had three good days. That was all he had left in him. I put him in a little bed beside my bed to make him happy. That last morning I knew it was his last with the way he looked up at me when I woke up. I took him outside and sat him under the peach tree in his bed. Mom brought me out some coffee and a egg and bacon sammich. He saw me eating and weakly wagged his tail. He LOVED bacon, so I gave him a tiny bit covered in egg. He was content and just sat there as I ate. I stroked his little head and he closed his little eyes and he was gone in a minute or so.
It was a fitting end for a best buddy.
Good memories!
Ah shit! Better to find it before it makes you sick. It is still an ah shit.
This my friends is ABSOLUTELY MONUMENTAL . And almost my no.1 reason for growing in the first place. Very happy days .
..but it is infinitely Treatable...by upping your mag intake.
..what a kick in the teeth.
:! Jeeeez!
