That’s what a good friend calls Frida, my long-haired Chihuahua puppy who is now 4+ months old. I don’t know about you, but I had never even HEARD of a long-haired Chihuahua when I met Frida, who was then just a 5-week old ball of fluff as compared with her sleek, blonde brothers. I was told she was the pick of the litter — “A breeder would KILL for her!” said my friend who had reared the litter and was simply giving the pups away in order to make sure they each went to the perfect home.
Frida was truly adorable and irresistible (witness that she has now been living under my roof since 7 weeks of age), but looked unlike any puppy I had ever seen except maybe a German Shepherd. Alas, I was hooked, and she was mine if I wanted her, and the rest is history in the making … how did I get so lucky?
I never thought I’d have ANY kind of Chihuahua, especially not the tiny teacup variety, which Frida seems to be turning out to be. She was 3 lbs. 5 oz. about 3 weeks ago, so maybe almost 4 lbs. now. I guess she might top out at around 5?
Her coloring is what I can only describe as that slurry of grey, buff, brown and black hair all mixed together, like a Shepherd’s, only hers is fluffy like a baby chick’s. And she has a black mask on her face, with golden eye shadow, and a black dorsal stripe, like many more feral animals who have not yet been inbred or domesticated.
And that is how she acts — undomesticated, … like a wolf puppy. She still instinctively licks the inside of Charlie’s cheeks (and would my other big dogs as well, if they’d let her), which is what wolf puppies in the wild do in order to get their elders to regurgitate freshly killed food for them.
She will not eat dog food, pretty much period, unless it is out of someone else’s bowl, and only then because she’s displaying the pack mentality of scrambling for her share of the food. But open the refrigerator and pull out fresh chicken or beef or fish and her radar goes on high beam and zeroes in on it immediately.
I have a virtual burial ground’s worth of gnawed butcher bones, which I keep piled in a basket, and when Frida’s not playing with Tucker, riding in her Outward Hound pouch with me somewhere, or sleeping, you will always find her chewing on the bones. She climbs into the basket with them to select the most delectable bone du jour.
I think genetically Frida got the best and strongest features that such a tiny pup could have. She is strong and undauntable, brave but careful and self-preservative, and can sniff out a mouse in the house before anyone else — even the cat. She has a very deep and gruff bark for her size, which she has only used about 3-4 times (wolves hardly ever bark). And she really knows what she likes and what she needs in that little body of hers in the way of food.
So, alas, after years of dreading same, I at last find it necessary to make homemade dog food, at least for her and her slightly larger cousin, Tucker, the house Chiweenie. So she’s finally eating pretty darn well … that is unless Mom puts a little bit too much of the other extra healthy ingredients in the mix (including super blue-green algae, of course) besides plain, unadulterated RAW meat! Then she won’t touch it and sits and waits until I get the ratio just right.
I must admit, Frida really shines when she gets her raw meat and her algae, so we shall see what we shall see when she grows up!
Recent Comments