I'm naturally drawn toward larger dogs; as soon as a dog passes the forty pound limit I imagine playing fetch, tug of war or wrestling. While smaller dogs can also play these games, the smaller a dog is the less likely he's going to be willing to roughhouse. Our Chihuahua, Duncan, places in the featherweight division at five pounds and has always reinforced my profiling of smaller dogs.
Yesterday I went into the hallway suddenly surprised by Duncan and his toy snake. The lime green snake with a bright red flicking tongue is as long as Duncan's tail and twice as thick around. Due to its size the snake is often lost under a piece of furniture or hidden within the folds of a dog bed. Once the snake was swallowed by a larger, yellow and gray, grumbly snake - the dyson vacuum. For these reasons the snake, like Duncan is rarely seen. That afternoon Duncan held the snake in his mouth and looked up at me with pride. Instead of nervously trying to make a getaway Duncan held his ground until I acknowledged his presence. "Hey, where did you find the snake?" I asked reaching down to grab the stuffed toy. Duncan asserted his ownership by challenging me with a small bow and then running into the dog bed beneath my desk. A couple circles and another bow followed, inviting me to play. Taking the hint, I laid down on the carpet, knowing I'd be covered in dog hair despite vacuuming the day before. Pinching the snake between my fingers we tugged and pulled at opposite ends. I'd allow Duncan some small victories and he would run around excited as if he had just won a gold medal. At times I was a little more aggressive and stole the snake right out of his jaws. Duncan didn't give up easily, but size does have its advantages and applying a third finger was all I needed to win. With the snake in my possession, I tossed it away for Duncan to retrieve and the game started over again.
It's no surprise that Duncan and I have never seen eye to eye, his Lilliputian figure is dwarfed by my height, twelve times higher than his own. Duncan prefers quiet and solitude in his bed, burrowed under a dog blanket hidden from my loud voice and large gestures that startle Duncan on his occasional excursions. When this happens he retreats like a groundhog portending the extension of winter.
I blame Duncan completely for furthering the divide between us with his occasional marking in the house. This habit mirrors his reluctance to go outside and the decision between getting him a cat box or kenneling him during the day has yet to be finalized. The last few months have been relatively 'pee-free' after I busted him with his hind leg still in mid-air. With a firm scolding I relocated him to the outdoors while I cleaned up the mess. When he received the all clear signal, Duncan dove between his blanket and bed and did not reappear until dinner time. Even then he avoided me as much as possible and refused to give me the slightest wag of a tail.
Mealtime is another wedge between us; unless Gregory sits with him, Duncan refuses to eat. While Gregory is on business trips I encourage, I beg, I command and then I just give up until Duncan is hungry enough to eat without all the drama.
Duncan will take a cookie or treat any time but sniffs each new home cooked meal suspiciously. Much to my dismay he loves commercial kibble.
Appearances by Duncan are so rare, it's like living with a mouse in your wall. Confronted by one another in the hallway we both freeze and stare like a deer in headlights. We're both concerned about an unintended trampling and awkwardly try to pass one another, each of us attempting to go to the left or right like strangers in an elevator. The impasse usually comes to and end with me freezing in place or with his retreat. We're not the most successful co-habitants, in fact we make Oscar and Felix appear to be bosom buddies in comparison.
However, Duncan is not without his charm, despite how infrequently he chooses to express it. At night he's placed on top of me after I've settled into my own bed. With his front paws on my chest and his rear end raised up high, Duncan is in the classic puppy play pose. Our game is repeated each night with me grabbing each side of the sweater or shirt he has been wearing to keep him warm. (I might note that many of his outfits are made from the sleeves of my shirts.) We both pause for ten seconds and then I shout, "Peel the Banana!" Duncan rapidly shifts into reverse and shucks his clothing. Excited to be free Duncan twirls in circles then stops to wag both his tail and tongue. Minutes later it's time to kick him off the bed. Duncan hesitates at the edge of our bed looking down at a jump that for you and me would be an equivalent of thirty feet. His courage seems to fail every night until we shout, "Geronimo" and then we hear a tiny thud and the shuffling of his blankets as he burrows into his bed.
Yesterday I went into the hallway suddenly surprised by Duncan and his toy snake. The lime green snake with a bright red flicking tongue is as long as Duncan's tail and twice as thick around. Due to its size the snake is often lost under a piece of furniture or hidden within the folds of a dog bed. Once the snake was swallowed by a larger, yellow and gray, grumbly snake - the dyson vacuum. For these reasons the snake, like Duncan is rarely seen. That afternoon Duncan held the snake in his mouth and looked up at me with pride. Instead of nervously trying to make a getaway Duncan held his ground until I acknowledged his presence. "Hey, where did you find the snake?" I asked reaching down to grab the stuffed toy. Duncan asserted his ownership by challenging me with a small bow and then running into the dog bed beneath my desk. A couple circles and another bow followed, inviting me to play. Taking the hint, I laid down on the carpet, knowing I'd be covered in dog hair despite vacuuming the day before. Pinching the snake between my fingers we tugged and pulled at opposite ends. I'd allow Duncan some small victories and he would run around excited as if he had just won a gold medal. At times I was a little more aggressive and stole the snake right out of his jaws. Duncan didn't give up easily, but size does have its advantages and applying a third finger was all I needed to win. With the snake in my possession, I tossed it away for Duncan to retrieve and the game started over again.During one of our final rounds, we stared into each other's eyes both communicating that we would not give up. Suddenly I was staring eye to eye with Duncan while we played.
As it turns out I don't need to lower my standard when playing with a small dog, I just need to lower my stature and my voice.
For more information about Eye to Eye go to this article more about Eye to Eye
EmoticonEmoticon