MOST people would do anything for love - and certainly no less when the object of adoration is a chihuahua.
Perhaps it is the size of their liquid eyes that holds their owners to slavery, or perhaps it is the deceivingly helpless appearance of their perfectly-proportioned physique - whatever the reason it seems that once a chihuahua is adopted the slave soon decides that there is room for another ... or two ... or three. Is it perhaps a freed-up paternal or maternal instinct that is responsible for the high number of adoptions by retired couples? It certainly seemed so one afternoon while I was shopping in Timaru.
I emerged from a shop to see my daughter and her friend barely stifling their giggles.
"What's up?" I couldn't be left out of something that funny.
She pointed to a parked car nearby. There in the back seat were two children's seats installed in the correct manner for maximum safety. And there in the seats sat two obviously pedigreed chihuahuas, high enough to see the passing landscape on all sides and protected by custom-made harnesses, attached each side to the baby seat frame. Proud 'mum and dad' could never be accused of child neglect.
And talking about things custom-made, I heard some time ago of a couple in Auckland whose passion for motorcycles endured to suburban mid-life domesticity. Their pint-sized family of two put their paws down early - no way can mum and dad go out without them! But motorcycle safety offered a problem on their Sunday drives.
But it soon was solved by customisation - a mini pink motorcycle helmet for her, and a mini blue motorcycle helmet for him, with colour-matched scarves dutifully knitted by mum, to fly in the breeze as they sped down Auckland's main street. And if you looked hard enough you could see a satisfied grin on their baby-cute faces!
On reflection it is not hard to fathom a reason for the dedication of the human species to their dogs (or to any favoured domestic animal for that matter).
Unlike children they do not squabble, scream and fight in the back seat of the car causing their parents massive, car-crashing distraction.
They do not require their nappies changed. They do not answer back or give cheek. They utter no complaints if their evening meal is not up to the usual standard but eat it regardless; (or they may opt for the alternative - a quiet but thorough roll in their dish).
They experience no peer pressure - a winter coat by Target is just as warm as one by Cardin. They don't demand Reboks and their walking leash does not have to be hand-crafted leather ... they reflect only joy and pride to be out walking with 'mum' or 'dad'.
They uncomplainingly stay home from outings when required and never need to borrow the car, have their teeth braced, want to shift into their own room, or become a vegetarian.
One chihuahua couple I know personally has very successfully adapted to the lifestyle of their 'parents'. The little boy loves nothing better than to go to sea with his 'dad' in the 15-foot motor launch. He can be seen at the bow, eyes transfixed on the horizon and fur blowing in the breeze, and when the first fish is landed he plays with it a little but always makes sure it goes in the bucket to take home for the family.
His mate hates the boat - it makes her feel seasick and although her favourite food is fish she would rather not know where it came from. Her idea of a fun day is to stay at home with 'mum' and help to feed the chickens ... give the cheeky bantam roosters a taste of her authority, taste the cat's milk just to show she can, and maybe take a walk to the shop. Sometimes she even goes visiting - new territories to explore and new animals to whip into shape.
Their adoptive parents used to do these things alone. Now they both have an agreeable, silent but attentive companion to share their separate pursuits.
So is there any need to ask, "why are people willing to give up their freedom in order to live with a dog?" - EP
