C h a l u p a, LITTLE Mexican
The Chihuahua side in you
Is the cuddly-wuddly side.
The Jack Russel part in your ancestry
Stands up to the biggest forces—
May that be at the Dog Park
Or at my front porch,
It is done always with true grit and determination!
I love when you smile at me,
Showing small, white teeth in your puppyhood.
Now they are grey and starting to fall out;
But there is no dentistry for dogs yet, as far as I know,
And I wouldn’t have the funds to restore them,
I could barely pay for my own choppers.
I love when he shows those teeth,
Meaning no harm of course!
His blood-curdling howl on the other side could raise the dead.
The whole neighborhood seems to pay attention
When his wolf-howl reaches their ears.
My son in North Carolina recorded Chalupa’s
Howl on his cell phone, scaring callers with this greeting.
My other son up north
Urged me to drown this animal in a bucket of water.
I enjoy the cuddly side in my dog.
Since my Husband’s passing,
I love the feeling of the dog close to me.
On cold nights Chalupa’s head feels
Like a heating pad on my back,
And I turn over with a contented sigh.
Chalupa means little boat in Spanish.
After fourteen years of being my companion and little Boss—
Each day is like a gift!
“Little Boat” someday I know
You will sail away,
Taking course for the “Happy Hunting Grounds,”
As the American Indians believed.
“I’ll wait for you there!”
My husband of almost fifty-four years
Of married life had assured me once.
“I’ll wait for you there—
Me and the dog that is!”