Things Only a Chihuahua Owner Will Understand

I told a coworker that I check my chihuahua's gum color every morning before I leave for work. She went quiet for what I would estimate, conservatively, was five full seconds, and then said, "That is not normal." She is correct. It is not normal. It is, however, Tuesday, and it will also be Wednesday.

The Sentence That Made My Coworker Stare

Owning a chihuahua means routinely saying things out loud that, in any other setting, would earn you a gentle referral to a professional with a clipboard. You do not notice this happening. The accommodations creep in one at a time, each one reasonable on its own, until one day you hear yourself explaining your dog's bowl preferences to a houseguest and you watch their face do something complicated.

A Field Guide to Things We Say

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"She only eats it if I warm it up first." "That is his blanket, and if you sit on it he will stare at you until you relocate." "She is off the blue bowl, so we are a green-bowl household now." "He has to be carried across the kitchen because the tile is — and I cannot stress this enough — too cold for his feet." If you own a chihuahua, every one of these sentences is simply a description of your home. If you do not, you are already dialing someone.

The Secret Vocabulary

We have developed our own language. "The Tremble" does not mean the dog is cold; it means a feeling is being processed and you have roughly eight seconds to identify which one. "The Stare" is not cute. It is a formal complaint being filed with management, and management is you. "The Burrito" is when your chihuahua wraps itself so completely in a blanket that you lose track of the dog for ten minutes, briefly consider calling someone, and then notice the lump on the couch is breathing. For more of this genre, see the fourteen things a chihuahua simply gets away with.

The Three A.M. Bark Investigation

Every chihuahua owner is also, against their will, a night-shift detective. At approximately three in the morning, your dog will issue a single urgent bark at a threat only she can perceive, and you will be required to investigate. You will get up. You will check the window, the hallway, and the area near the radiator where the threat allegedly originated. You will find nothing, because there is nothing, because the threat was a leaf, or the concept of a leaf, or the memory of a leaf from a previous evening. Your dog will observe this investigation with the grim satisfaction of someone who has been warning you about the leaf for weeks. Then she will fall back asleep instantly, leaving you fully awake at 3:04 a.m., now personally responsible for household security, quietly contemplating the fact that you hold a graduate degree and answer to an eight-pound animal with strong opinions about foliage.

Yes, I Carry a Sweater in July

I keep a chihuahua sweater in my bag year-round. Not because she is always cold, but because she might be cold, and the look of betrayal on a cold chihuahua's face is a thing I have seen once and intend never to see again. I also carry treats that cost more per ounce than most of the snacks I buy for myself, a collapsible water bowl, and a tiny first-aid kit. My dog has a more complete emergency plan than I do. The living room now contains a ramp, a set of stairs, and a platform, which together give it the general appearance of a very small, very specific obstacle course. Houseguests receive a brief orientation when they arrive. They are told where they may sit, which blanket is load-bearing, and that the dog will be joining us at the table — not to eat, in her telling, but to supervise.

Why Any of This Is Worth It

Here is the part I do not make fun of. This small, ridiculous animal knows my mood before I do. She knows when I am about to cry, when I need to be left alone, and when I need her to climb into my lap and simply stay there, and she is right about it more often than most people in my life. That is the trade. I warm the food and keep the green bowl and carry the sweater, and in return I get a love so concentrated it is almost unreasonable. If anyone asks why I do the things I do, I have stopped explaining. I just say you would not understand — which, for the record, is the nicest thing I can say about the club. If you want to know how the day really runs, read the daily schedule, told from her side.