Barefoot Chihuahuas

Not all Chihuahuas are created equal.

Being the adopted father of two of the walking garbage disposals I am more than qualified to make this statement.

I am taking the time to blog about the two little yap traps in response to a blog post from my friend, Heather, lamenting how Lizzie McGuire herself turned one of the little dears into a piece of jewelry. In a nutshell, if Hilary Duff was awake, the dog was being held.

The dog should count his blessings and be thankful he was Duff's accessory instead of Paris Hilton's, but I digress.

One of my little dears wouldn't even walk to pee if she could get away with it. She's in fine health unless chronic laziness is a disease. The running joke in our household was to ask her if she wanted to go out for a carry.

Our other little dear hasn't quite grasped the concept that she's only five pounds and she must sometimes be held for her own safety. She doesn't come up to an average man's ankle yet she has the spunk of a rabid pit bull with a thorn in its hind end.  She once chased an oversized cat underneath an azalea bush and came out covered head to tail in mud. She then proceeded to walk into my house and put miniature muddy paw prints all over the kitchen floor my wife and I had just spent two hour cleaning.

That was the closest I ever came to testing just how far I could punt a small dog.

It's a perfect segue into Heather's actual point in her blog post about human beings losing touch with Earth because we wear shoes. Heather is correct in that shoes can be uncomfortable and the removal of a too-tight pair of shoes can feel better than being on a long road trip and finally finding a bathroom after three hours and two Big Gulps. Seriously, does anything compare to the orgasmic feeling of removing a pair of dress shoes (or better yet, a pair of high heels, right ladies?) after spending too-many hours at a black-tie affair?

It's all about fit. Don't settle. Your foot's comfort trumps your eye's enjoyment. And, if that doesn't work, think about how good it will feel removing your shoes when you arrive home and the look of death from your wife you'll avoid by not tracking dirt over the living room floor on which the baby still plays.

As for the dogs, well, they buy themselves another day of clemency every time they look at me with total adoration and loyalty. Manipulative brats.