When Elaine and I first adopted Pablo (page 249 of “A Voice in the Hills”) a little over four years ago, we believed he was a Chihuahua-Papillion mix. I did not know at the time there are two kinds of Chihuahuas: the Apple, which is dome-headed with a short snout and legs, and the Deer, with longer legs and snout. I learned all this from my dear friend Danielle Scruggs, who is my Chihuahua and Golden Retriever aficionado.

Pablo’s initial name was Trouble and that alone should have warned me of what I was letting myself in for. 

“I’m gonna kill that little brat,” I’m often yelling, as Pablo proceeds to disrupt my whole household with his shenanigans. Pablo responds to my outbursts by leaping onto my lap and attempting to lick any portion of my face he can reach. 

“Don’t be mad dad, I’m just having fun.” 

The worst part is that he entices Charma, my 80-pound Boxer girl into the game and for a half hour at a time the two of them are bouncing off walls and furniture. When they emerge from these bouts, Pablo is usually soaking wet from Charma mouthing him in her pretend death grips. Don’t let this frighten you; Pablo rules the game as the aggressor.

“I’ll take him anytime you want to get rid of him,” Danielle tells me.

“Not in a million years,” I respond. “But don’t tell him I said that, I need to have some semblance of control.”

I’ll be honest, I often make decisions on animals and people that I help by following my heart. I still try to rely on people I trust to let me now if my assistance is warranted.

A dear friend made me aware of Cici (pronounced si si, or like “yes” in Español.) Cici is an 11-year-old long-haired Chihuahua that’s a female Pablo. It seems Cici had bladder stones and her owners couldn’t afford the operation to remove them. I’ll admit I was intrigued to meet this little girl and my heart took over.

Fast forward a few weeks later when Lennie’s Fund took care of removing Cici’s bladder stones, successfully operated on by sweet Dr. Lara at Landrum Vet. I saw the size of the stones removed from her bladder and I couldn’t believe a little thing could have amassed such large stones. They looked like skipping stones I used to throw on a lake as a child. 

“It all went well,” Dr. Lara told me, “and she’s doing fine.”

I went to Cici’s cage and held her in my hands as I gave her a kiss.

“How are you doing, little girl?” 

“Much better Uncle Lennie, thank you.” 

“Are you going to be a good girl, Cici?”  I asked.

“I’m always a good girl, Uncle Lennie,” she replied. 

I looked at this sweet little thing recouping in her cage, the total essence of innocence. Cici is now home and doing wonderfully and I think back to four years ago when I heard the same thing from Pablo. “I’ll be a good boy,” and I smile. 

I hope Cici is just as feisty as my boy; after all, it’s not fair that I should be alone in my plight.

Thanks for listening.