I feel like this blog is making a liar out of me. I post about our 19 chickens… all but nine of them are slaughtered. We buy four more…. now we have a baker’s dozen. I never wrote about that. I wrote about my bees and how I accomplished a split that didn’t go as planned… I explained that I would be checking the Queenless hive in a week to do another split, if need be. I didn’t. (Well, I tried but the girls were so pissy that I walked away for the day, and have been so busy I haven’t been back to do another inspection since.) I wrote a post about my loathing of all things animal… we buy a dog on Mother’s Day.
I know, I know… But she is sooooo cute.
I am a member of several Virtual Garage Sales on Facebook. Sunday morning, while scrolling through the sugary sweet Mother’s Day messages that other friends had posted, I happened upon a “garage sale” ad with a picture of a little black and brown dog. The ad read that the family had moved into an apartment and were no longer able to keep the Chihuahua. Long story short, we arranged a meeting and after about 45 minutes of each member of our family getting to know her, we took “Mia” home. (We can’t keep her name Mia, because my niece’s name is too similar and Alaina has a good friend named Mia. Plus, it is way too unoriginal for our family.)
I am pretty sure we saved this dog’s life. The previous white-trash owner had enough money to dye her hair, get a manicure and pedicure with cute little jewels (which I guarantee was a weekly occurrence), wore Abercrombie jeans, but didn’t have enough money to take the dog to the vet. The Chihuahua, who is around 8 months to a year old, had never been to a veterinarian, and this woman had no proof of her supposed “home vaccinations” that she had given her. I know that my husband and I took a chance on this little girl, but couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen to her if we left her behind. She has taken a liking to our family already. She is snuggly and loves to be held and is housetrained and fetches and is so protective of everyone already. I didn’t even bat an eye at the vet bill, which is a pretty big deal for a tightwad like myself. Hell, I have taking a liking to her already. I have proof.
I actually bathed a dog. Yep, that’s me… I’m grimacing, because it is still freaking gross and I think I was washing her butt at the time. But it wasn’t that bad.
The second morning, while I was still getting ready, my husband left for work without taking her outside to poo, and the dog shit on the stairs and on my bedroom floor. I picked it up, and didn’t gag. It was semi-solid and squished a bit when I used a bag to remove it, but it didn’t smell. I sanitized the floor with rubbing alcohol and white vinegar and a steam mop, but it wasn’t that bad. Yes, this is still Cari typing away….
Our problem? Her name. My family cannot decide on a name for this little girl!
The last time that I had a pet that “stuck” was back in 2001 when I had my heart broken for the second time in my life. Hard. I was miserable, and probably not the best mama to Alaina at the time. Enter Pepe. Pepe was a cute little Chihuahua that was bought on a whim by my soon-to-be-ex-step-mom. Alaina fell in love with him on a weekend visit with my Dad. My soon-to-be-ex-step-mom, otherwise known as Queen of Impulse Buying had bought not one, but two Chihuahuas. Once the new wore off, she was ready to get rid of them; my step-sister took one and I offered the money-hungry, uh-em, I offered what she paid for the dog and bought myself (and Alaina) a replacement companion. Pepe was an awesome dog. This new little girl appears to be a female replica of Pepe, only the vet seems to think she might be a bit Miniature Pinscher.
I like the name Condoleezza Rice, or Leezza for short. She is a bad ass female, one, but two, I always think of the Dave Chappelle’s Show episode where he played Clayton Bigsby: “Condoleezza Rice? Sounds like a Mexican dish.” Chihuahuas do originate from Mexico…
Alaina, James and I all like the name “Pepita”, meaning ‘Pip’ or ‘a very attractive person or thing’. It fits. Martin doesn’t like it. I think he thinks it is too close to ‘Pepe’ which although years ago, is still a reminder of a certain ex-boyfriend that ripped my heart out of my chest. I just like the name Pepita.
MacKenzie is stuck on ‘Tent’. Yes, you read that right. For four days now, every time the subject of a name comes up (and it comes up a lot), Kenz exclaims that the dog should either be called Lightning McQueen or Tow Mater (but quickly changes her mind because those are boy names), or Tent. Finally, this morning I asked MacKenzie if she knew what a tent was. She exclaimed yes, a tent is one of those ‘triangle things that people sleep in’. Still a bit confused, Alaina pressed the questioning. It finally came out that Kenz thought the dog’s ears looked like tents. Kinda cute.
Martin wants to name her Xena, as in Xena the Warrior Princess, but I can’t shake the vision of Lucy Lawless in her leather outfit walking around. Maybe my husband can’t either?
We may have to settle on a very long name (Pepita Condoleezza Rice Tent Xena Hoover), but I wanted to throw it out to my dear readers.
Any suggestions of a name for a female, mostly Chihuahua, but maybe a teeny bit Miniature Pinscher?