My Dog Itchy
Itchy was the result of a permiscuous Pomeranian and either a Chihuaha or some unknown neighborhood rascal.
Soon after she moved in (and chewed herself a home in everyone'sass heart... she could be a real pain) I started thinking she was at least part Terrier. Had to be, she looked like a cross between a Rat Terrier, a Cairn Terrier and Phyllis Diller. I'm guessing she ran away from home shortly after birth, squatted in a little of fluffy Poms thinking she'd have it easy for the rest of her über-upper-middle-class life.
Until it came time to sell the pups. The fluffaloriums went for +$200, Itchy was free with a bonus of free fleas, hence the moniker which she acquired more honestly than any black dog named Shadow. Instead of living in a gated-community tract home, she came to the country. I like to think she lucked out, as did I. This is doggy heaven.. dirt roads, no traffic and only a couple of houses near.
Grown, she didn't weigh much more than six pounds, but she was huge where it counted. Itch climbed like a cat, using her claws. She scraped legs when someone was unfortunate enough to wear shorts in her presence. She bit, too. All that got a little better as she grew, though.
When big enough to go out by herself, Itchy started chasing the neighborhood dogs. The smallest pooch on the street, she ran with Golden Retrievers, half-breed wolves and a Boxer/Pit Bull mix that frightened animal control so much I think they refused to pick the beast up no matter how many complaints they received. Itch was princess of Wilson Street. If a strange dog came sniffing by she'd run it off.. the last one was just a week ago, a German Shephard/grizzly mix. She left the wild bunnies alone, though. I guess they weren't big enough to bother with.
Itch died today, consumed by something with neither teeth nor fur. Something she should've left alone, but there's just too many tempting treats in the woods out here. Ironic, she could best the biggest critters out here, but was taken by something smaller than she.
After she left, I cried until I fell asleep and dreamed of chasing her around the yard with a flea spray bottle.
G'bye, Itch.
Soon after she moved in (and chewed herself a home in everyone's
Until it came time to sell the pups. The fluffaloriums went for +$200, Itchy was free with a bonus of free fleas, hence the moniker which she acquired more honestly than any black dog named Shadow. Instead of living in a gated-community tract home, she came to the country. I like to think she lucked out, as did I. This is doggy heaven.. dirt roads, no traffic and only a couple of houses near.
Grown, she didn't weigh much more than six pounds, but she was huge where it counted. Itch climbed like a cat, using her claws. She scraped legs when someone was unfortunate enough to wear shorts in her presence. She bit, too. All that got a little better as she grew, though.
When big enough to go out by herself, Itchy started chasing the neighborhood dogs. The smallest pooch on the street, she ran with Golden Retrievers, half-breed wolves and a Boxer/Pit Bull mix that frightened animal control so much I think they refused to pick the beast up no matter how many complaints they received. Itch was princess of Wilson Street. If a strange dog came sniffing by she'd run it off.. the last one was just a week ago, a German Shephard/grizzly mix. She left the wild bunnies alone, though. I guess they weren't big enough to bother with.
Itch died today, consumed by something with neither teeth nor fur. Something she should've left alone, but there's just too many tempting treats in the woods out here. Ironic, she could best the biggest critters out here, but was taken by something smaller than she.
After she left, I cried until I fell asleep and dreamed of chasing her around the yard with a flea spray bottle.
G'bye, Itch.
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