My Chipper, a 6-year-old long-haired Chi. He looks sweet, doesn't he? Don't let that fool you. He's mean as a snake.
Ginger, the expectant mother.
Chester, AKA, the Fat Dog, is a rescue dog.
Pete, the one who started it all.
For many, many years, Cheryl, my sweet sister-in-law, was the biggest cat lover in the world. Everything was about her cats.
For some reason, about seven years ago, she bought a Chihuahua for her ailing father. He named him Pete. Pete really looks like the Taco Bell Chi. He was always a little skittish, but he's much better now. He doesn't hesitate to come up to you to be picked up and petted.
Then six years ago I got Chipper. He's a long-haired Chihuahua, and is the cutest thing. But he's got this unattractive mean streak in him. He can be sitting quietly, snuggling next to you. And the next second, he's biting hard enough to draw blood. Then he's apologetic. But it's too late. You're bleeding!
Almost three years ago, Fred, my brother, bought Ginger as a birthday/Christmas present for Cheryl. She's been hanging around with a Chihuahua in the neighborhood and she's expecting puppies any day now.
Then earlier this year, Cheryl got Chester. He's a big, fat Chihuahua. In fact, on the Fourth of July, two of her nephews walked in who had never seen him before. One of them said, "Where did the fat dog come from?" The other said, "He looks like a watermelon with legs." That's funny because my sister Dorothy said he weighs as much as a watermelon.
But Chester is a really good-natured dog. He just loves to eat. Kind of like an Okamoto. So he actually fits right in the family.
A couple of weeks ago, Cheryl said, "You know I've always loved cats, but I really love the little dogs."
They've always had dogs, but they've been bigger dogs. They've had two beagles, a rottweiler and a huge Welsh corgi. They did have a little terrier named Sunny, but he disappeared one day.
I can't name the cats that Cheryl has had. The one that we all loved was Rosie. She was a kitten when my mother's beloved Cherry was a puppy. The two of them would play and when we'd leave the house, when we got home, they'd be sleeping together. We lost Cherry several years ago and Rosie died earlier this year. We were all sad to see her go.
Cheryl just has one cat now, Harry. He's a huge, black cat with gorgeous eyes and he responds when you call him. He usually shows up in the evening. He was such a cute little baby. Cheryl rescued him and a sibling at a fast-food drive-through when they lived in Florida. Fred originally said she couldn't keep them. He had one in each hand and said they were called "Humane" and "Society." Cheryl found a home for Jelly, but kept Harry.
Ginger will probably have at least two puppies. When I was holding her last night, one of them kicked at me when I was stroking her bulging belly. Ginger's usually very hyper, running around and barking. Last night, she just went upstairs and got on Fred and Cheryl's bed, just nesting under the covers. I think that's a sign that she's getting ready to have her babies.
I was caught by surprise when Piiko had her puppies. I really didn't think she was that close to having them. I had a box ready for her, but she had them at the foot of my bed on a beach towel that she liked to curl up on. Am I glad I had that beach towel. Two of them woke me up around 6:30 a.m., squeaking and squealing. I took Piiko and the puppies to the box, where she had two more. The last one was dead, and she'd pushed her aside. I had gone to shower and when I came out, I found her. I wished that I had been there when she was born. I may have been able to get her to breathe. She was pure white, just like Piiko. The other three were born jet black. They are all silver now.
Of course, I have Miss Pookie Belle now, too, the product of Piiko and Chipper.
Anyway, Jessica came home this weekend, hoping to see the puppies, but Ginger didn't have them. She went back to the University of Florida this morning.
So we're all waiting for the new arrivals.
As soon as they're here, I'll take pictures and post them.
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