Anyone who knows me or follows me knows that I am the doting “mama” to two of the world’s cutest miniature dachshunds, Wyatt Earp, a mischievous red dapple with one blue eye and Josi, a raven little long haired wire haired tiny beauty.
Several months ago, a new neighbor moved in next door and, like I and many people in our neighborhood, he too has dogs. But his canine companions, Zoe and Oscar – are two very large, undeniably imposing animals. Both are of questionable heritage, and each are large enough to have struck terror into one sweet little lady who lives around the corner and was summarily convinced that they are “pitbulls”. She clutched not only her pearls, but her little terrier as well and ran in the other direction when she first saw them.
On the dogs’ first foray out with their master to survey their new territory, my two little scamps raced out into the yard….and promptly came nose to nose with two behemoths that literally dwarfed them. Then, the most amazing thing happened.
Sniffs were exchanged.
Inconceivable friendships were born.
Over the last months, their buddyship has only deepened.
All I have to do is say “Where’s Zoe and Oscar?” and ears perk up, eyes light up and the puppy happy dances begin all the way to the door.
Little Miss Josi, my mill rescue baby who is 10 pounds dripping wet and was heretofore terrified of her own shadow has a puppy crush of epic proportions on Oscar.
Wyatt Earp, the 13 year old, 12 pound stud muffin legend in his own mind seems to be similarly enamoured of Zoe.
You see, Wyatt and Josi have never seen the network news or read the newspapers replete with reports (much like those a generation ago about German Shepherds and Dobermans) of the reputation as a thoroughly dangerous breed that their new objects of affection have been wrongly saddled with by a fearful little lady. As such, they didn’t succumb to irrational fears, or immediately look for the worst. They just saw, well, two other dogs.
As the mailman, trash man, UPS guy and FedEx delivery men (who have still not managed to break into my house and attack me in all these years) can tell you – my dogs are abundantly aware of any perceived danger and they are rightly protective of their abode. But, they’re also pretty darned good judges of who and who not to like. That they like Zoe and Oscar is good enough for me.
To be fair, in my life I have met a Chihuahua or two who were the very embodiment of the phrase “death from the ankles down” – so I can testify that it’s not the breed, it’s the environment and the treatment that matters.
And, gentle reader, such is life. We can choose to only accept stereotypes and look for the worst in others and be rewarded with finding it each and every time, or we can realize that, in the end, we’re all just puppies.