Pocket vanquishes the sinister Chihuahua

I may not have won the election but I did vanquish my most hated opponent. The sinister Chihuahua is gone.

For those of you who don't know the sinister Chihuahua is my arch nemesis. He escapes from his house when I am outside peacefully doing my business and charges at me with dark eyes and snarling teeth. I am a peaceful pup and do not like violence but when another pup confronts me in such a manner I have no choice but to put my tail between my legs and hide behind my Daddy while the Chihuahua barks the nastiest curse words in a mixture of American and Mexican.

But last weekend a big truck pulled up the the sinister Chihuahua's front door and men began to load his sinister belongings. Foley and I sat on the back of the couch and watched wondering if this was one of his sinister plots. Plus we wanted to make sure he left too, not that he was just banishing his humans to live in his own evil kingdom.

We never did see him carried out, nor a crate, nor a pouch, nor two men in hazmet suits with a locked box not wanting to come in contact with pure evil. The only sign we had of him exiting the house was the stream of black smoke that curled out of the house and into the back of the truck before it moved away.

Later that day Foley and I went outside and checked out the sinister Chihuahua's house. We smelled no evil, saw no evil, heard no evil, and spoke no evil which means we are one step above the monkeys on the evolutionary scale.

There is one sad note, well at least for Daddy, and the male of the human species, because the sinister Chihuahua's Mom was the neighborhood porn star whose movies are sold at Bostonbabies.com. Mommy has never let me see the movies but I believe the sinister Chihuahua is her evil pimp.

But we still have our other colorful neighbors like Mr. Franksandbeans. This is a true story: I swear on Mommy. While Daddy was carrying me while taking out the trash (I am there for protection) Frankandbeans got out of a car in mid conversation and said "I don't taste the puss either."

Daddy told Mommy this story and then they both just looked at one another with the confused looks on their faces when there is unaccounted vick on the floor.

But thanks to Franksandbeans I do know to chase the cats but never actually taste them.

The sinister Chihuahua and his direct to DVD Mom

By Foley:

Guess who I met today?

Pocket and I went outside after Mommy and Daddy got back from shopping (nothing for us) and, while I was minding my own business peeing on the lawn, the sinister Chihuahua came running up to me. Well, first of all, I do not like having my peeing interrupted especially by a rhinestone collar wearing lap dog. Secondly, it got right up in my face, not respecting my personal space at all. Daddy held our leashes tight being well aware of my peeing rules.

And then, sashaying down the sidewalk towards my Dad, came the Chihuahua’s owner. Now where we live there are rules, and one of the rules is that you cannot let doggies run free. Daddy gets very upset when this happens because he worries about us tiny dogs. So what did Daddy say when he saw the Chihuahua’s Mom as she smiled and apologized?

He smiled and told her that it was all right. You see the sinister Chihuahua’s Mommy, she’s in the movie industry. Well, that may be giving her too much credit, she’s in the DVD industry. The direct order DVD industry. The direct order from an internet site which you can’t get on to at the public library DVD industry. The direct order from an internet site frequented by lonely guys who used to own a Bichon Freise which you can’t get on at the library DVD industry.

I looked up at Daddy, ready to see him give this woman what for, and he looked at her, smiled, and said “That’s OK.” The woman then bent down and picked up the sinister Chihuahua and it looked back at me and sneered with the “my Mommy’s in the direct to DVD business and I can do whatever I want,” look.

Pocket and I continued on our walk but Pocket could not concentrate on her business, and if anyone needs to concentrate on her business it is Pocket. She asked me why Daddy had not given that woman what for and I told her that when approached by pretty Mommies some Daddies become like a bowl of Jello while trying to come across like a rawhide stick.

I calmed Pocket and she did her business and when we came around again we saw Jake and Elwood, our Lhasa friends, being walked by their Mom, and she moved to walk in the street while we moved to walk on the sidewalk because the four of us, when we get together, have a marathon barking and sniffing session. A disappointed Pocket asked why Daddy would keep us sniffing the sinister Chihuahua but have us avoid our Lhasa friend’s Mom. I told her it was because Jake and Elwood’s Mom is a paralegal and not in the direct to DVD industry.

We went back inside and there was my Mommy. You know the relationship us pups have with our Moms. Sometimes we can say so much with just a look. We can say “Mommy I need to go outside,” or “Mommy my tummy hurts,” or “Mommy Daddy was making googley eyes at the woman who is in the direct to DVD movies.” I chose the third one.

I was a little cold in bed last night. I like to sleep right between Mommy and Daddy. But when Daddy has to sleep in the hammock it’s never as warm. At least we won’t be seeing that Chihuahua for awhile.

Some sacrifices are worth it in the long run.

Pocket and the sinister Chihuahua

By Pocket

I’ve been doing my best, trying to do my business outside, being the best dog a Pocket can be. Today I went outside, got in position, when suddenly a Chihuahua came running right up to my nose and went “Rouff!” I was so startled my water backed into my bladder. I have a hard enough time peeing where I should, never mind with someone barking right into my nose. How rude. I looked at this little black thing, with some expensive bling around his neck, and I said: “Brooksie?” and it said “Brooksie? What’s a Brooksie? I fart in your general direction.”

Well, I come from a long line of Yorkshire Terriers, English royalty, and if there is one thing a proper English lady will not tolerate it’s a Spaniard farting in their general direction, especially after interrupting a proper pee, which is almost as insulting as farting during tea. I then stoked up my considerable courage and ran away. When I reached the end of the flexi leash I jerked back and crashed to the ground. “Look at you little dog,” the Chihuahua said, “all tangled on your leash, and look at me, free to run back and forth, I expel gas towards your hind quarters.”

Now I was blind with rage, or I had dirt in my eyes, anyway I wasn’t seeing too good. It was time for my most powerful move. I dug in then charged at the offending Chihuahua, got right up to it’s face, and then turned and ran back. When I reached the end of the leash I turned, ran right up to it again, and then turned and ran back. The Chihuahua looked at Daddy and said: “What the hell is her problem?” Daddy just shrugged. “I have no time for you, you offensive little dog,” it said. “Your mother, she lay with a commoner.”

He then ran towards his house and I ran right after him dragging Daddy behind me yelling at that Chihuahua to get back here, get back here right now, when it turned and came back here right now. I turned and ran as fast as I could. I glanced in my window and saw Foley on the couch wearing a sombrero and waving a pennant that said “Kid Chihuahua” and now I was mad. I turned and charged at it and this time it ran towards it’s house as I barked my most learned curses. He then turned and faced me and said “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” I peed right there on the grass.

A door to the house opened and the owner said: “There you are Paco come on inside.” Paco stopped, farted in my general direction, and went inside.

“Well, at least you peed,” Daddy said.