I was in the middle of writing another post when I heard my husband say,”you want up Chi-Chi? Come on.”
Chi-chi is approximately 14 years old. When my husband gifted her to me I proudly bestowed the name Chi-Chi Barbados on her. I don’t know why, it just came to me.
Often times I would be met with a half drunk relative which in learning Chi-Chi’s name would respond, “oh, like Chi-chi Rodriguez.”
I’m sorry, did I introduce her as Chi-Chi Rodriguez? No. This is Chi-Chi Barbados and you will address her as such.
Chi-Chi went everywhere with me. It was Real Legally Blonde and could have easily been on Bravo or something. I took her in my purse, put her in the child seat of the basket at Target. Christ, I even had a bikini made for her.
Then 1 son happened.
Then another son happened.
Chi-Chi knew what was going on and she makes me pay for it everyday. Her favorite torture tactic is to stare at you while you sit on the sofa. She’s too old to jump up. She’ll scratch the sofa and demand you lift her up and you do. 3 minutes later she jumps off just to spite you. 2 minutes later she again stares at you till you can’t take it anymore basically saying, “yeah, I jumped off and now I’m ready to be placed back up. Now bitch!” And so you scoop her back up. This vicious cycle continues the entire time you are watching tv and sitting on the sofa.
Because Canine Depends have yet to be invented, Chi-chi chooses to piss where ever she deems fit, usually being my son’s rooms. I have told them over and over and over again, shut your door so Chi-chi can’t get in, but they rarely do. As soon as I go to tuck my youngest in, I step in a big old puddle of piss.Not that anyone looks forward to cleaning up urine but that is the LAST thing you want to do at the end of the day. And walking in their rooms is like walking onto a mind field. I am literally hoping over to tuck them in like football players do with the tire exercise.
Never feed your dog from the table or you should only feed them twice a day has never really been in my vocabulary. Chi-Chi has always shared meals with us. Tonight she had 3 pepperonis. This whole situation becomes a drag when I’m starving and know I can easily clean EVERYTHING off my plate. Chi-Chi just sits there, by my chair whimpering louder and louder till I give her food, like a complete food attic. It drives me batty.
In addition to being the worst dog owner, I am the worst neighbor too. Over the years, I’ve become lazy in walking Chi-Chi. I just let her out into our unfenced backyard. This usually results in her immediately finding a good dog owner, walking their dog to run up to and bark at uncontrollably. She has shit in their yards and I pray to God they are not looking out and see it.
Monday night we had a few of my sons’ buddies over to play soccer. When I opened up the front door to let a dad and son in, Chi-Chi took this opportunity to run out.
“Oh your dog….” the dad said as he watched Chi-Chi waddle out.
“Oh that’s fine,” I said. “If it were meant to be, she’ll come back.”