Never say never. That’s something I’ve learned over the years, and it’s something that came into full realization when Hitch entered my orbit.
“I saw the cutest little Chihuahua mix at the animal shelter today,” is how my fiancé’ Hallie started the conversation.
Chihuahua? Cute? Wait a second. That’s a little dog, isn’t it?
Years ago, my wacky aunt would often – and unexpectedly – show up at my family’s suburban home with a teacup dog emerging from her shoulder purse. While the dogs would change every few years, her effusive attention to the latest canine couture always remained front and center… as were the impromptu fashion shows she presented to my parents’ fixed smiles and internal eyerolls.
So, as much as I wanted a dog, my parents felt that my aunt’s visits adequately satisfied their desire to have one. My opportunities to bond with a dog of my own would have to wait until years later.
When I met Hallie later in life, I knew she was nearly-exclusively connected to large animals, and my life with her was woven with horses and giant-breed Scottish Deerhounds. So, when she surprised me with this new addition to our family, the rush of ancient memories of my aunt returned.
I think Hallie knew that I needed a little guy. Then Hitch began to pour his own magic into our home.
Practically hairless from flea allergies, Hitch had wild tufts sprouting from his chin and eyebrows. But this little guy was also soulful and confident. A mix between a Chihuahua and Yoda with some Terrier in there, and a little bit of Mr. Miyagi from “The Karate Kid” as well. I could tell that life on the street had taken its toll. But it had also made him a very observant and patient little fellow. I doubted he had experienced many dress-up days with humans in the past.
As he checked out his new digs and weaved his way between the long-legged Deerhounds in the house, he often stopped in his tracks to try to make eye contact with me. I did not dare return his long gazes. Who does this little guy think he is, anyway? He may have won over Hallie with that stuff, but I was never going to be a little dog pushover.
Well, that didn’t last long. Before I knew it, he was finding his openings to jump in my lap and curl up with his eyes tightly closed before I could react. Clearly, he knew I was overdue for some little dog love. So, I surrendered the fight.
But I won the game.
Hitch has become the absolute heart of the family. His coat has grown full and shiny, and his disposition is one of enthusiasm and joie de vie. When the Deerhounds run in the Hitchcock Woods at breakneck speed, he sprints around them, like a referee at an NBA basketball game. He constantly checks on me, making sure that I know he’s there for that special little dog heart connection.
Remember when I said never say never? I have one exception to that rule. I never want Hitch to leave my side.
— by Rip Russell
