Here is a story about a little dog that has found a place in my heart. Always loyal, always by my side. Hints of fiction and a splattering of truths, Chico is real, he was a rescue dog from Las Vegas, and I do indeed have two other dogs named Carlos and Lucy.
Charlie was a handsome young Chihuahua, the smallest of a litter of three, but perhaps the smartest of the litter. He had one brother and one sister, Frank and Sadie. Charlie loved his mother dearly; her name is Princess. Princess was a Las Vegas show dog of the most exceptional pedigree. Charlie and siblings were a result, of a romp around the dog park, with a handsome dog, (even though he was a mutt) when she slipped out of the view of her handlers. Princess‘ humans were somewhat displeased over the unexpected pregnancy; they feared it would end her career as a show dog on the strip. The humans had prearranged a mate for Princess, another show dog, Hermes, from a distinguished lineage, but those plans were down the toilet in light of her unplanned pregnancy. Princess took a break from showbiz to be with her pups.
Charlie lived in an elegant house with his mother and siblings. He never got to meet his father; he only knew the stories his mom told him, about their tryst that day in the park. Their humans, of course, treated them like royalty with gourmet food, luxurious bedding, and many scrumptious hors-d'oeuvres for treats. Many happy days were spent lying in the sun, playing with each other, and lounging on top of our humans who we knew as Bob and Suzy. Charlie had the perfect home at The Lakes in Las Vegas. Life was wonderful. He had never known what it was like to be cold, afraid or hungry. That would soon change.
One day a terrible thing happened. Some strange people came to the house, two big humans and one half-sized human. They played with the puppies, and things were going well until the small girl snatched Charlie up, claiming that he was the one. Charlie was not at all happy about being packed away from the only family he had ever known.
“Mom, mom!“, Charlie whimpered. He could hear her barking, but she could do nothing to help him. Frank and Sadie were anxiously calling after him. Their voices grew distant as he was jostled around inside a cardboard box, as the family carried him from his house.
After some travel time, Charlie finally arrived to find that his new home was not up to the same standards of living he had grown to expect with Bob and Suzy. The house was about the size of his old living room and was dirty, smelling strongly of cat. Charlie's new humans, Linda and Henry and their daughter June, were friendly toward him part of the time, but other times they left Charlie alone locked in the bathroom, for many hours each day while they were out of the house. June played with Charlie sometimes, but she was rough, and it quickly became not fun for him anymore. Now, whenever he sees June coming, he shakes uncontrollably, lowering his head, laying his ears back flat against his head. Charlie cowers with fear wherever he can find some refuge. Sometimes that just meant hiding his head under a pillow.
Sometimes Charlie got to lay on Linda’s lap, and she stroked him gently. He liked Linda, but most of the time she ignored him, but he lapped up any love and attention offered to him, as love was scarce in this home. From day one, Charlie didn’t like Henry; his voice was booming loud and frightening to Charlie, and the yelling never seemed to stop. Sometime Henry would kick or hit Charlie for reasons he did not understand. Often they forget to feed Charlie, which forced him to forage around the house for garbage and leftovers. Out of necessity, Charlie develops a fondness for coffee, conveniently there always seemed to be a partial coffee or tea left within his reach on the coffee table, it wasn't water, but it was wet.
Charlie also had three feline roommates. They were terrifying. They clawed at him and hissed when he got too close. In the cramped quarters of the house, he had no escape from the evil beasts. Often he found himself with scratches and bruises, due to the cats and the girl, June.
One summer day in July, everyone was home, and a backyard barbecue was happening. The family had guests over, and there was a lot of activity around the cramped quarters of the house. The humans were coming in and out the back door to the yard, carrying food and drink. Charlie slips out the door unnoticed and escapes his captors, free at last form two and half years of abuse.
Charlie wandered down many streets and back alleys and soon became hopelessly lost. He was scared and hungry, and it got cold at night. Out of necessity, he learned to subsist on whatever garbage or scraps he was able to find. Sometime the street people would give him food. He slept under cardboard boxes in the alley, cold and afraid. The streets of Las Vegas was a scary place for a little dog like Charlie.
After several months of living the vagabond lifestyle, in constant fear and hunger, Charlie was looking and feeling pretty rough. He had lost half his body weight, his ribs and spine visible beneath the loose skin on his back. He had contracted a terrible infestation of ear mites, that hurt and made him scratch. Somehow, Charlie managed to break off both his canine teeth partially. Charlie, feeling faint from hunger and lack of sleep, found a resting place on the soft grass near the corner of Paul Street and Dunn. He dreamed of being with his mom and siblings, and Bob and Suzy.
Charlie awakened with a jolt. A woman with soft hands gently lifted Charlie. The voice of the dog catcher soothed his anxiety as she pets him softly. The kind woman loads him into a van, and he later finds himself at the City Pound. Initially, Charlie didn’t mind his small jail cell; it had a blanket, food and water. The other dogs, never shut up, but to Charlie, this still beats living on the streets.
After several days, Charlie was beginning to feel less comfortable with his situation. Rumblings from other dogs had him scared. He heard from the others that dogs who are not claimed by their owners or otherwise adopted, go into the back room and come out smelling of death. His neighbour Spot went into that room yesterday, his 14th day at the jail. Charlie became extra scared when he picked up Spot's scent, smelling of death.
The next morning a miracle happened. A short, stocky human called Majorie took Charlie and three other Chihuahuas with her. She spoke softly, and gently caressed the Charlie and the others lovingly. Immediately he decided that he liked Marjorie, she called him ‘Horace’. Charlie decided he would be Horace for this sweet lady, no problem.
Marjorie had many Chihuahuas at her place. She ran an animal rescue just for dogs like Horace. Horace and the others received an essential warm bath, to wash away the filth. Particular attention went Horace's ears; they were cleaned and medicated. Horace had many other dogs to play with, and the food, although not as fancy as what he had in his first home, was abundant and always available. Horace felt content at this new fun place; he loved Marjorie and the other dogs.
Horace had already become used to his new name and was just beginning to settle into his new communal life with Marjorie and her many dogs when things suddenly changed for him once again.
One day Marjorie loaded up Horace and took him to one of those rooms, that he had feared while he was in jail. He was held down firmly by the veterinarian while he injected him with a needle. At this point, Horace was sure that his life was over. His eyes grew heavy as he fell into a deep sleep.
Horace felt sore, and sick as he awoke, he looked around to find himself in another jail cell. To his horror, he discovered he was missing his testicles! Yelping with pain, cowering and shaking, Charlie could only wonder, “Where was Marjorie,?"
The next day Marjorie came back for him to his uttermost relief. He found himself in the familiar white van in a dog crate, Horace let out a sigh of relief and relaxed believing he was on his way home to Marjorie’s place. Horace noticed that others dogs were with him. He was in fact, sharing the van with twenty-four other dog crates, some familiar, others unknown, but all were at least in part, Chihuahua. When the van stopped, and Marjorie opened the door, he could see that he was not at Marjorie’s house, but in the parking lot of the McCarran International airport. Horace and the others stacked six high into the belly of a giant aeroplane.
The aeroplane was very loud, and Horace and the other dogs were nervous and afraid, especially when they felt the plane move and gradually ascend. The journey was unpleasant. Horace was cold, and the motion of the plane bounced him around in his crate. After several unnerving hours in the air, the plane started its descent. The loud noises of the engines and impact of the landing scared Horace so bad that he couldn’t help himself from releasing his bladder right there in the crate. Marjorie will be mad, he thought to himself.
Horace and the other dogs were all loaded on carts, from the belly of the plane. The air was different here, and the airport didn’t look familiar. “Where am I?“ thought Horace. Horace was sad because Marjorie was not there for him.
There was a group of humans waiting for the rescue Chihuahuas at the airport. Horace and the others had successfully made it through immigration to become Canadians. The dogs, divided into smaller groups, each assigned to a different human who loaded the dogs into their respective vehicles. Horace made the journey with four others to a pet store in Vancouver, Canada of all places.
The humans were kind to him at the pet store, but they didn't have too much time for Horace since the store staff had their hands full with many other animals and customers. The pet store was large and busy. Horace had some infection at the site of his surgery, but no one attended to him. He lapped up any and all attention he could get when customers came to view the animals. Horace competes with the other dogs to win the admiration of a new human and the potential of a forever home. Horace wanted to be treated as his royal lineage dictates. His mom was a Princess, and that made him a Prince without question.
After only a few days, another miracle occurs, and Horace finds his forever humans. His new mom and her daughter came to the store. Horace gazed at his new mom, she picks him up, and he was like a beanie baby in her hands. He could not stop staring, and somehow he knew she was the one for him! But to Horace’s uttermost disappointment, the woman and her daughter leave the store without him. Horace lays his ear back and whimpers himself to sleep, feeling all hope is gone forever.
The next day, it happens, Horaces life changes forever! Mom comes back to the store again with her daughter. Apparently, Horace wasn’t dreaming it when he felt the bond toward his new family. He arrives at his new forever home, to meet the rest of the family. His father was waiting, and there was a brother who both loved dogs. Horace officially has new name ‘Chico‘.
Horace likes these new humans, “I’ll be Chico,“ he barks happily.
Chico also learns that he has a canine brother and sister, Carlos and Lucy. Carlos took an instant dislike to Chico. Carlos did not want to have to share his mom or his biscuits. Lucy, a senior dog, grumpy and set in her ways, let Chico know without question that she was the boss and not to mess with her. Slowly the three dogs became friends, and gradually a family.
Chicos new home was not a palace, but he felt as though he was living in one. His new mom tended to his wounds several times a day until things weren’t sore anymore. Chicos new family treated him and the other dogs like royalty. The three dogs enjoy the most excellent foods, and tasty hors-d'oeuvres, in abundance. Lucy has the belly to prove it. All the dogs get to sleep on the bed with the older humans. Chico, however, has to be under the covers with mom.
Chico develops a special symbiotic bond with his new mom. She helps soothe his anxiety and fear, that still haunts him from his days on the street, and his life at an abusive, unhappy home. Chico feels safe and happy with his new mom. Chico lets his mom hug him when she is sad and becomes her constant, loyal companion.
Chico is finally a Prince, and his new mom, his Queen! He lives happily ever after in his palace, with his humans and canine family.
From Left: Lucy, Chico and Carlos
P.S. Images are mine.