Picking favourites.


I read that Chihuahuas have a tendency to choose a favourite human and, when we first met Jeans, I thought that person would be my husband.

It's kind of weird, meeting a dog that you and your partner have already fallen in love with, though photos and craftily composed bios.  I'm guessing it's not unlike finding a third for a threesome.  You want them to like you, you hope they look like their photos, you hope that everyone gets along, you hope you don't get jealous.

I was the desperate one.  I kept smiling at her, calling to her, tapping my lap, leaning so far forward that I'm practically lying on the ground, pleading Come, Come! Everything that I'd learned about letting them come to you first, gone out the window.

For all my efforts, I got a couple of courtesy sniffs.

My husband, on the other hand, he knew how to work it.  He relaxed in his chair.  Calm.  Confident.  That first meeting, she jumped onto his lap, laid her head down and heaved a big sigh as she fell asleep.

That was when my husband fell in love and I was told we should consider getting two dogs instead of one.