Muerte was the name of our first dog. He was extraordinary...and part human. He understood full sentences. He knew when it was appropriate to bark and when it wasn't. He didn't need a leash. He knew our names. He was loyal. He was cuddly...but not needy. He was independent. He went everywhere with us. He was a "chihuahua" (in air quotes because he was very un-chihuahua in mannerisms). He was family. He was one of a kind. He was awesome and His name was Muerte. That means death in Spanish. We realize this. It's sort of an indicator of our sick sense of humor.
He passed away last June. I was 8 months pregnant. If you know anything about being pregnant you understand why this is an important fact to point out. He had liver cancer. Ugh. I hate cancer. He was only 8 years old. Poor dog. Poor us. It was one of the saddest days we've ever had.
The boy in particular had a very hard time with this. And still does. Every once in a while he will ask me, "Mommy. Has Jesus made Muerte better yet? Can he come home now? I miss him." Oh...so sad. He was in LOVE with that dog. The first day that we brought the boy home from the hospital he was in his bassinet next to the couch. And Muerte sat on the arm of the couch right next to him and didn't move. He had immediately accepted the boy as family and had made a vow to protect him...at least in my mind that's what he was doing. It was unbelievable. For the next month or so, Muerte did not move from the boy's side. He went everywhere that the boy went. Good dog.
So...when he passed it was VERY difficult on all of us. We weren't even sure what to do. The boy was so sad. We were sad. So...we thought getting another dog might help. So we did. Her name is Lola. And she is NO Muerte. She is the same breed...a deer head chihuahua. We got her for free (that story is crazy but not for this blog).
She's cute. She's sweet. She barks at inappropriate times. She's cuddly...and NEEDY. She's almost the exact opposite of Muerte. For months I called her "not Muerte" instead of by her name. Perhaps this played into her neediness and insecurity. She just has no self esteem. She crawls up to my face and looks at me with these "do you still love me?" kind of eyes. Perhaps she's not so different from a lot of girls seeking relationship? Is that weird? That I just took it there? Oh well. If you're reading this and you're one of THOSE girls. Just stop. Have some self pride and self worth...for the love of all that is good and holy! :)
I'm trying my best to love and accept her into our family. But she's no Muerte...
Poor Lola. She has no chance of matching up to him. She could try a little harder though...yeesh. She doesn't need a leash though! So that's good. Hmmm...
PS – maybe it’s because she used to be a showgirl…