Oh, the horror!

As the beast approached, I noticed a bright yellow object in the death-grip of its mouth.  Perhaps a trophy from a previous slaughter.  A child next door?  There was no way to know.  With nowhere to run, I did what any man would do to survive when staring into the jaws of death.  I grabbed that object and began to tug!  Left, right, another right, then left!  I spun the monster around in the air!

The beast is stronger than I expected.

Staring into those demon eyes, I began to sense an ancient intelligence.  Ancient, as in ten years old, evidenced by the patch of white hair on its crown.   Fearing the battle would last for hours, and feeling my strength beginning to wane,  I was surprised when the hellhound released its grip and retreated to my freshly-turned garden for a siesta.

RARE PHOTO: The Chihuahua in its natural habitat.

Hours later, I outwit the creature by luring it into my home.  He enters freely, drawn by the bowl of water I’ve placed on my kitchen floor.  The Chihuahua creature –we’ll name him Coco– seems comfortable in this alien landscape.  He appears not to notice the glass barrier that separates him from freedom.

Behind these prison walls.

But that’s okay.  It’s time to eat.  And rest.  And eat.  And rest some more.

Coco Waller.

He’s very very tiny

But in his little frame

There’s power and there’s strength

That’s a credit to his name.

He wasn’t built for hunting,

He wasn’t meant for work;

But if he has a duty,

He’s not the one to shirk.

He has uncanny knowledge

Of the do’s and dont’s of man

And he makes the greastest effort

To please you if he can.

And it there’s danger lurking,

He’s fearless and he’s bold;

And that’s why the Chihuahua

Is worth his weight in gold.

~ PEARLA O. RICHARDS, 1952.