I have had pets in the house as long as I can remember while growing up. Some were "my pets" growing up, but clearly taken care of by my mother. I had a couple of cats of my own after moving out on my own. Buster and Narnia were awesome feline friends for the (very) short time they were mine, but they went on to bigger and better things and my time with them gets more blurry with each passing year.

I'm not entirely sure which year it was, somewhere around 2012 or 2013 my mom was moving back to town and went on an adventure with a friend on her way back home and found this antique shop on the roadside of some highway and in back, it was later discovered, was a puppy mill. When my mom stopped off, there were several dogs in crates right on the roadside that were shaking and scared and hot. My mom inquired and found they were "too old" for puppy mill life and would be put down if someone didn't take them home that day. My mom, being who she is, took one home. A cute little chihuahua that somehow got named Sweet Pea between my mom and her friend on their way back home. Around this time it was my birthday and my mom just arrived home with this tiny dog. I had fallen in love with my ex-girlfriend's chihuahua (and actually stayed with that girlfriend for too long as a result of her chihuahua). I was very apprehensive about falling in love with this other tiny dog, so I stayed my distance for a couple of days while my mom was at the house. About day three, I think my actual birthday, my mom brought the tiny dog to me and asked me if I'd like her as a pet for my birthday. I lost my shit and said yes and it's been all over ever since.

Sweet Pea would eventually become known as Swizzle and I plan to write a whole book about her. She crossed The Rainbow Bridge almost two years ago. In that time I have found a new familiar. Her name is Ella, and she is the bestest little buddy a person could ever want. I spent a full month, essentially, in bed depressed after Swizzle passed. I just could not... One day I got up and made it my mission to find a new best friend. It took weeks to accomplish and involved a lot of phone calls and emails where I was informed I was too late or not a good fit. One day I was on Facebook (curse that place, so glad I am off of that platform - but...) and saw a wiry haired fuzzy chihuahua a family was looking to re-home. They had a lot of boxes to tick, it was clear they loved this dog. I managed to tick all the boxes for them and went to meet the dog and the family. The family was great, we got on wonderfully right off the bat. Then, it was time to meet the dog, Ella. A skittish and tightly wound chihuahua that was deemed not a good match for their household, what with a couple of rambunctious little kids running around and screaming. I couldn't agree more, especially with regard to one of their children. The mom and dad took me back to their master bedroom, where inside a wire kennel sat this little mangy looking bag of bones that somehow looked like a chihuahua and managed to be the cutest thing I had ever seen. The mom picked her up and placed her on their bed and Ella retreated under a blanket. I simply said "awww, it's okay..." and she peeked her head out from under the blanket. I put my hand out, palm down and fingers curled in a little bit and said "Hi, little lady..." and she came out from under the blanket and slinked up to my hand and licked my fingers. The mom said "OOOOHHHH, SHE DOESN'T DO THAT FOR ANYONE, EVEN US!" I left with Ella and it's been on ever since.


Ell has her own website now, go check it out! Work in progress.