On the Road Again

From last Wednesday to this, the weather went full throttle from frigid to balmy. So today, after weeks of wimpiness on the part of the walkers, I got to hit the streets of Olmos Park with six WWTs. Little Chica came, too, and because my mistress had her hands full with the pup, Ann McMullan walked me. Now Mary doesn’t put up with unplanned stops, but I played Ann, making her think the stops I made were necessary. (Sure hope she walks me again next week.)

Up to now I have been the object of everyone’s attention, but today I had to endure the ladies’ ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the little one. Even I have to admit she is a cutie, though. And I must say I admired her moxie in befriending Pat Semmes’ doggie, J.D., who is more than 10 times her size.

Over the weekend we took Chica to the country for the first time and she did rather well. The only time I heard her whimper was when she got a sticker in her foot. She didn’t seem to mind stepping into the water when we traversed the creek, which impressed me as I avoided that for years. And she managed to keep up with both me and Chigurgh, a lab whose head alone is several times larger than Chica.

News flash: Today they selected a Scottish deerhound as best in show at the prestigious Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show in Madison Square Garden. This time last year, my dog cousin, Sadie (whose owner is my mistress’ first cousin) won. Now Sadie is expecting. Sonograms show that she is carrying four puppies. What a difference a year makes.

Trixie's Sister Settles in

It’s been almost two weeks since my mistress sprung a Chihuahua puppy on me and my master. Neither of us was thrilled, but I must say it hasn’t been half bad.

Of course Chica, as she has been named, can be a nuisance. She constantly wants to play, even when I’m wanting to rest. It goes on day and night. And at bedtime, when we both burrow under my mistress’ covers Mary has to put the puppy on her other side or she will continue to jump on me, spoiling for a mock fight.

Despite all this, it’s fun to watch the little thing making my fox toy squeak over and over, learning to walk with a leash, and cuddling with Christina, my master and mistress’ five-year-old granddaughter-- who lugs her about the house like a rag doll. (I’d be jealous but do I want that? Noooooo.)

Believe it or not, the little thing is teaching me some things. They say you can’t teach and old dog new tricks, but maybe that just means if humans are the teacher. Because I’ve learned to eat broccoli—something I’ve always refused—thanks to Chica. She eats it ravenously, so I thought I’d give it a try and you know, it’s not bad if it’s buttered. Since my mistress read lately that it’s healthy for dogs’ heart health, I expect we will be eating a lot of it from now on.

We’ve been having unseasonably cold weather for several days now, which has curtailed our daily walk. This morning, for the first time in several years, there was snow on the ground. I tried to go outside, but twenty-degree weather isn’t for this short-haired northern Mexican-bred dog. Nor is it for the puppy.

But with spring in the offing I look forward to walking with her and my master and mistress soon. Now we’re a family of four--and I’m beginning to like that fact.

Separating the Bitches in Bed

Well the ladies wimped out again this week, due to a windy, twenty-degree day. So instead of walking I hung around the house with Chica--who wants to play 24/7.

As bureaucratic government writer might put it, Chica has no “terminal facilities” when it comes to play, and the only way I can get her to stop ragging me is to bite her ear. Of course then she howls and tries to get me in trouble with my mistress. But fortunately, Mary seems to get it and instead of fussing at me, simply carries the puppy off.

Speaking of my mistress, she is over the moon about having met Ariana Huffington at a World Affairs Council awards ceremony where Huffington spoke. Having been burned by not having a camera with her when she met Salmon Rushdie at a Texas Book Festival Gala in Austin several years ago, Mary always carries a camera in her purse. And thanks to Lewis, she got her photo taken Wednesday night with the woman who just sold her eponymous publication for mucho millions.

Among Huffington’s observations were that one should never sleep near their electronic devices, as research shows that merely looking at an email or text message will disrupt sleep patterns. Well there’s something else that does the same thing: a Chihuahua puppy.

At bedtime Mary has to act as mediator since Chica wants to play with me under the covers. The trick is to hold the puppy down on the other side of the bed until she settles down and sleeps. All I have to say is I’m glad Mary didn’t adopt both puppies that were offered her. Else wise I’d get neither a wink of sleep nor a moment of repose.

Another Chihuahua on the Scene

Well after being the princess of the house for five years, something happened today to rock my world: my mistress acquired another Chihuahua.

It all happened on our daily walk around the block. The weather was nice so we took a longer route past a house that’s been on sale for a while. Turns out new owners had just arrived with two tiny Chihuahua puppies. And the next thing you knew they were offering them to Mary.

Well at least she had the good sense to take only one of the two, over my master’s strong objections. But wouldn’t you know it, as soon as we got back to the house the little minx began courting Lewis, draping her tiny self all over him. By the end of the evening, he was smitten.

But it’s not all bad. First, I’m still being treated in the royal manner I’m accustomed to (even though she's pedigreed). Second, now there’s someone half my size to lord it over. And third, it is kind of an entertainer being around a young ‘un. So far so good...

Lighting the Fire

Well I’ve missed walking with the Wednesday group two weeks running. Last week my mistress forgot to take me. Can you imagine? Then today she wimped out and didn’t go due to the cold. As it turned out, all but one stalwart skipped.

Fortunately, I’ve had plenty of good walks in at our country place. Weekend before last, I walked down Williams Creek with my mistress’ grandchildren. Last weekend I walked up Williams Creek with my big doggie buddies, Chigurh and Townes.

The next day, we made our way through a field where the grass was so high I had to jump along like an impala to see where I was going. (Being small can be a drag in situations like that, but mostly it’s an advantage given that humans always make over me as if I were a puppy.)

The high point for me was the après walk time, when I got to watch my mistress’ son, Maverick, light the first fire in our brand new fireplace. It didn’t get hot enough for me to lie in front of it, but we found later that that was because the damper (who knew they were adjustable?) was set so that much of the heat went up the chimney.

I’m really looking forward to lying in front of it next time, when it puts out more heat. After walking, of course.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

My master was confounded when I refused to walk in the cold on Monday. As soon as we stepped out the door I simply turned back into the house. Then my mistress did virtually the same thing today, when she and her fellow Wednesday Walkie Talkies decided not to hit the streets on the coldest day of winter (so far).

Now I'm sure Vermonters would scoff at folks who won't go out on mid-20-degree days, but this is sunny San Antonio, Texas. As one of the WWTs, Susan Gragg, put it: "I guess we're fair weather friends." Amen, sisters.

Good Eats, Good Prognostication

I must say I loved every minute of the holidays. That’s because I had the best table scraps ever. On both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day there was the obligatory turkey. Then, on New Year’s Eve, my master and mistress went up to their Hill Country place, Los Piquines, to celebrate with champagne and a fancy four-course meal at Mac and Ernie’s Roadside Cafe with son Maverick and another couple.

I had to stay back at the house while they feasted, but when they came back I got some luscious leftover filet mignon with lobster béarnaise sauce, thanks to my good buddy Ann McMullan. The next morning, everyone had an extended walk up both creeks and through the fields. It was a cold, clear day—glorious both for man and beast.

It was a propitious beginning for the new year and my intuition tells me 2011 is going to be a great one. As my vet likes to say, “Trixie’s Momma didn’t raise a dumb dog.” That being the case, I hope everyone--both men, women and beasts--will take my positive prognostication to heart and make it a Happy, Happy New Year.

Next week the Wednesday Walkie Talkies will resume their weekly walks and I'm sure I'll have more news to relate. Until then be happy.