What are we thinking?

Justin and I had been contemplating a dog for a few months now but just weren't sure it was the right time nor what to get exactly. I wanted a big dog but he wanted a small one that wouldn't make the house stink.

Well, thanks to Sandra and her uncompromising love of animals, we have acquired a chiweenie. Yes, a chiweenie is exactly what it sounds like - a mexican hotdog. Who knew that chihuahuas and dachshunds could make such sweet-faced little boogers? Sandra found this little guy wandering around in the cold and could not leave him sad and alone. But they have a dog that is not very willing to accept...well, much of anything really. So, after Cosmo tried to eat the chiweenie, Justin and I made a little trip to meet the guy and, of course, fell in love. He has a dachshund body and eyes but chihuahua coloring and his ears are best described as "bat" ears as they mostly just stick out on the side of his little head. He's just under a year old and a bit hyper at times, but he's small so it's not hard to deal with. The only problem we are experiencing is an intense dislike between my kitty-boys and the new chiweenie. Oh, and there is always the constant threat of marking. Why do boy dogs feel the need to mark anything within a hiked leg's distance? We're making some strides with the cat-dog hatred. Loki is more likely to accept the chiweenie than Elvis, though, which is truly odd considering their personalities. Elvis already scratched the chiweenie's little nose. But that didn't seem to teach him a whole lot. I foresee a vet visit with icky scratches on a dog in the near future - not fun.

So, just as the house was getting back to normal and the cats were getting comfortable, Justin and I added a dog. And just when they all get used to each other I'm sure the baby will be here just in time to disrupt the party a bit more. I figure it just makes life that much more interesting.

And in case you were wondering, we have named the chiweenie - although I like calling him the chiweenie much more. Little Opie could care less what you call him, though, as long as you love on him a bit and feed him he immediately loves you unconditionally. Who could ask for anything more?