I heart Chewie

When I tell people I have a dog, they want to know what kind. While technically, my dog is a Chi-Poo (part Chuhuahua, part Poodle), I just tell them he is a Chihuahua. After all, he's more Chihuahua than he is a Poodle. So, Chihuahua he is! Still, he's a little furry for your average Chihuahua. That's the Poodle in him. Maybe this is why I gave him the name that he has. It is a name that makes people laugh, because they KNOW he is a small little Chihuahua doggy: Chewbacca. I guess it is kinda silly to imagine something as small as this:




being named after something as BIG (and scary) as this:

As a side note, I realize there ARE other dogs and even cats given the name Chewbacca. I wonder if their owners get the same laughing reaction I get from people when they say what their dog or cat's name is?? If anything, you can bet that when any of us are watching a Star Wars movie, it's Chewbacca we root for. YAY, CHEWBACCA!

Chewie DOES try to live up to his namesake. He may be small, but his bark is BIG! I've been told his bark makes him sound like a BIG scary dog.

I got Chewie when he was just a puppy, when I was 19 years old. Which would make him 15 years old now. He was one of the puppies my mom's Chihuahua gave birth to. At first, Chewie was my second dog. I had another dog, an Australian Shepherd named Lukas. They got along pretty well, even though there were times the two of them tried to "compete" and show who was "top dog" around here. Maybe it was a size thing. Nevertheless they played a lot and shared a den that they had to sleep in. Then Lukas got sick later on and passed away. Chewie didn't handle it very well. I could tell he was really depressed his buddy wasn't around anymore because he was always curled up on a chair, just sadly looking around. Or he just slept. He was hardly active at all and barely ate. Forget about getting him to sleep in the den anymore (which is where Lukas died). I eventually allowed him to have free reign to sleep anywhere in the house he wanted to. Instead of my bed, though, he preferred a favorite chair.

As with Lukas, I gave Chewie some nicknames. Lukas had the following nicks: Luke, Luka, Luke-Duke (because of a song my dad made up about him), and Luka-Duke. I called him "Luke" a lot, though, maybe because I liked the idea of there being a "Luke" with a "Chewbacca." (Haha. My parents joked that if I ever got another pet, I should either name it Han Solo or Princess Leia.) With Chewie, sometimes I call him Chew Boy, Chew-Chew, C-Dawg and Bacca.

Officially, Chewie is not a licensed hearing dog, but I DO rely on him the same way I'd rely on a hearing dog. Mainly, to let me know if someone is at the door. I realize an actual hearing dog could do so much more than that, but so far I've managed pretty well with just Chewie. (It's not a perfect system, but this HAS worked most of the time so far.) I tried to teach Chewie handsigns or signals once, but lost my patience too easily. Then he got to be too old to learn that. I DO regret not investing the time to teach him hand signals, but at least we've managed okay so far.

Nowadays, Chewie is definitely showing his age: He has glaucoma in both of his eyes, which means he can only see out of the side of both eyes. His left paw is also a little arthritic, and that arthritis acts up every once in a while. It can get to be so bad, he'll be limping. He also lost some of his teeth after an accident with someone playing too rough with him. (The vet had to remove the damaged teeth as well as some other teeth that were in bad shape.)

Still, he is basically in good health. As I said, his bark is worse than his bite, and Chewie is always up and ready to show just how tough of a doggy he can be. He will bite at strangers, but mostly at their feet. And he'll definitely attack if he feels his home turf is being threatened. When he sleeps on my bed and someone knocks at my door, he'll snap awake imediately and start barking his head off. Which made for a good "alarm clock" when I didn't have one to wake me up at a certain time, because all that moving around he did on my bed while he was barking was enough to wake me up!

I try to take pictures of Chewie, but he doesn't like having his picture taken. Mostly, he'll turn away from the camera. Which is why sometimes I will have to "surprise" him with a quick snap of my camera if I want a picture of his face!

Here are the pictures I HAVE managed to take. Hopefully, I can find a way to take some others.

He's been around for my college days, my marriages and my children's births. He's survived all the moving we did, all the new backyards he had to get used to and natural disasters (earthquakes mostly). And now he is adjusting to my pet-sitting of ANOTHER Chihuahua, my friend's sister's dog named Angel.
(She was NOT given the right name!) At first, he took to this new companion pretty well. But sometimes he gets too cranky to play with her or sometimes he'll get really possessive of his doggy bed or the food he is given. (The, ahem, "Demon" likes to snatch away any food I try to give to him! Which is why
I've taken to feeding them seperately.) Still, it's been good for him to have a fellow canine buddy around again. Even if she's not really his buddy. Haha! But it's put a spring into his step again. Instead of sleeping all day, like he did before she arrived, he tries to "show off" in front of her by guarding the backyard or showing her who is boss around here. And at least there is another doggy for him to play with again (he WILL play with her sometimes).

I really love my doggy, even though I realize it won't be long before he is not with us anymore. His days are indeed numbered. I don't know how I will handle it when his time comes to go, but I am grateful for the time I have had with him. He's definitely touched my life and I'm not looking forward to when he has to leave us. But, meanwhile, I'm spoiling him every so often. He usually has to stay in my kitchen with Angel (we have to keep her AWAY from the baby's toys because she chews on them -- and EVERYTHING ELSE!) or he'll be outside with her, but sometimes, when I can get away with it, I let him roam freely about the house and enjoy his company. I certainly don't want him to spend his last years pent up in my kitchen all day! I am making sure those last years he has on Earth are as happy and lovable as they can be.