Like Gulliver next to a Lilliputian the chocolate Lab dwarfed the Chihuahua. While his 80 pounds lay resting, she moved her 5 pounds around him investigating the giant.
I had spent the day at the local Animal Control seeking a canine beach companion and Frisbee friend to adopt. The chocolate lab that I brought home seemed just like a “teddy bear” to me, and that became his name.
The people at Animal Control said the young lab had been found roaming the fields outside of a nearby farming community. He was so thin that his head stood out as enormous and his coat was dry, bleached and dead looking. His tail had a big crooked part in it and looked as if it had been broken.
But there was nothing broken about the young lab's spirit. He had a 100 watt smile.
I watched his expression closely and hovered next to the two dogs but there was no sign that their relationship would have problems.
After nine months of my rehab the Chihuahua, Heidi, had recuperated from her homeless condition but she still failed to show any sparkle of spirit. Little did I know that my trip to Animal Control had resulted in just the thing to put a playful gleam in Heidi's eye.
It was a surprise to see the shy, often trembling, passive Chihuahua boldly sniff and paw the resting giant. Teddybear grinned without moving his head from the floor, and his tail beat like a drum on the carpet. Heidi met him nose to nose, eye to eye, as he lay on the floor.
When she put her minuscule front feet on top of his nose and peered deeply into his eyes his tongue lolled out as he smiled.
Mine almost did too.
Was this the scared waif of a Chihuahua I had been rehabilitating for nine months? Could this be the same Chihuahua who trembled with fear over new things?
Obviously Heidi was coming out of her shell. She still looked serious but her actions were outgoing. Teddybear's happy- go- lucky personality was infectious.
From that day onward the Chihuahua cheered up and the Labrador seemed to laugh with joy because he had a home and friends.
