Chihuahuas Are Just Like Marmite

We have almost had Baby Bell for six months now. From the teenie tiny guinea pig sized puppy, she has grown quite considerably but she is still small.

We have a baby gate on the kitchen door and she still manages to squeeze through that, although her tummy does sometimes get stuck so she has to wiggle through. She can still get under the television unit and she was getting under our garden gate for quite a while until we put a piece of wood across it to stop her on her solo-farm jaunts.

She can get under the fence at a different place now so I am going to have to address this as she goes off on adventures and comes back with oil on her beautiful white paws. It is funny but I do worry for her safety on the farm with her being so small. Even a chicken peck could be lethal.

I have been surprised how much she barks. The farmer compares her bark to a squeaky toy. It is very high pitched and she definitely lets us know of she wants something.

Her toilet training is hit and miss. I believe small dogs especially are hard to house train and the cold weather hasn’t helped at all. If it is too windy for example, she won’t even contemplate her little paw setting foot outside.

The biggest surprise though is other people’s reactions to her. Maybe it is her size but they seem to be unsure of what to do with her. She can get up onto the sofa now and will climb up people to lick them or greet them. Some people don’t seem to like her at all.

One of the farm dogs hates her and would have had her by the neck like a rat had we not intervened. Unless she grows more, she will be under constant supervision.

I just presumed people would love Chihuahuas as much as me. I still can’t believe she’s mine and I can cope with some people not liking her because she is so lovely.

Even the farmer loves and loathes her in equal measure. The toilet training and the pitch of the bark has made him mutter quite a few obscenities and there was a point where he said he might have to make me choose between him and the chihuahua.

With a smirk on my face, I said that if I were him, I would not even go there.

In the evenings, she just wants to sit on your knee and be stroked and she has the funniest character.

It seems then that Chihuahuas are like Marmite. You either love them or hate them.

I think you can guess which camp I am in.