songs to the wa wa

"I wanna see the Wa-Wa movie," my three year-old nephew says plaintively. No one can figure out what he means, so he starts speaking more slowly and more loudly, repeating himself like an old person does to someone who doesn't speak the language.

I can hear Fig scratching at his bowl right now, and dang, I'm pretty sure he was fed two hours ago. 'Scratching' is the way he communicates~ rather commands me to do something like feed him or get him a chew stick. And the joke is, my love might have fed him before he left earlier this morning. This is one smart dog, playing the parents against one another.

"Boy, he has you trained well," many have said when the scratching begins, as I hop up to fetch something for him. Reminds me of the comic's riff on aliens watching Earth and concluding that the dogs are in charge since the humans follow them around and pick up their poop.

He is not a pig, just a nickname. As I type this, I realize this may be canine bullying and should be stopped. But I am telling you people: I have had two chihuahuas, and the first had enough sense to control and self-regulate with a bowl full of food. Not this one. We left him with Mom for a week one time and he gained at least a pound - hey it's 10% of his body weight. Imagine gaining that much in a week! Her goofball Yorkie doesn't gorge, but Fig? Oh no. He was at the All-You-Can-Eat Buffet 24/7 and our gymnast came back looking like a baseball player.

When I started to work on the show, the days were much longer when I was at the school. One of the most liberating gifts my love gave to me (and Fig) was a simple one: the doggie door. Now he can be left for long periods of time, and whenever something needs to be addressed in the neighborhood, he doesn't have to ask my permission to dash out back and bark the heck out of it.

It is comical when we forget to leave the latch up.

"Beverly Hills Chihuahua," my brother finally exclaims. My young nephew practically does a Super Bowl Shuffle in the end zone.

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