Paco, our elderly Chihuahua, lives in our hallway closet. He has an old basket that he has lined with my bathrobe. He dragged it in there himself. He also stole Josie's new Christmas coat and we found that in his basket. He uses it for a pillow.
He spends about 22 hours per day hiding in that closet....UNTIL....there is a knock on the door or Spike runs by. Then he rushes out like a huge monster, making more noise than 5 big dogs.
When we tell him to stop barking, he continues to make noise, but we all swear we can hear the cuss words he seems to be uttering. Paco ALWAYS has the last word.We have been watching The Dog Whisperer this week, while on vacation. So I decided to try to "train" Paco. What a joke! I would defy that guy to meet Paco. Paco rules this house.
Joe, Joey, Catie, Andy and Mike all try to befriend him. If you have food....you have a friend. When it is gone, he is back to cussing you out. No exception.
Paco comes out when Paco wants to. He may wander out when he hears forks hitting plates, as he knows it is time to eat. Late at night, he ventures out to join me on the couch.
By the way, Paco is blind. He has cataracts and both his eyes are pure blue now. Pretty sick that Joe laughed at him the other day when he walked into the cupboard. He also has bad breath as anyone who has been unlucky enough to get close to him knows.
I don't know why I love him so, bad breath and all. Maybe it is "face love". Paco will crawl up and rub his fact against mine to show his love. Maybe it is because other than Justin (his real owner), I am the only one he loves. As my Dad used to say, "If kids and dogs love you, you can't be all bad."
No comments:
Post a Comment