Out of the blue one day, my son calls out to me that there was a puppy in the truck. My husband hadn’t mentioned anything when he pulled the truck into the garage, so I was skeptical, but sure enough, there was a little puppy. He was from Azul the vet’s female dog’s litter and apparently in the same line that Puppy was. They have the same eyes, that’s for sure, although he didn’t get the expressive eyebrow markings that the Puppers have.
We rescued him from the front seat of the truck and gave him some water and food. My son christened him Cocoa Beans on the spot.
Fuzz wasn’t sure what to make of the new puppy. Initially, he took the high road and completely ignored his presence. However, towards evening, he went on an all-out attack, determined to kill the little vermin.
When that failed, he led Cocoa on a merry chase under chairs (where Cocoa got stuck) over obstacles (that Cocoa couldn’t get his stubby legs over) and outside (where Cocoa could not open the door to return). After all that running around, Cocoa collapsed for the night in his box with some old clothes thrown in for blankets.
The next day, nervy little puppy piddled here and there and everywhere. I put both Fuzz and Cocoa outside while I mopped and what a racket they made. Both of them spent 30 minutes crying at the door. Fuzz, who under normal conditions can let himself back in, was prevented by Cocoa who was blocking the door.
Finally, I relented and let them in. Both were promptly horrified when their paws got wet. Fuzz retreated to a chair and I tucked Cocoa in his blanket, and they both took a nap.
Fuzz continues his torment of Cocoa. He pretends he isn’t interested, but we know better. He lays on the floor and deliberately plays with one of Cocoa’s toys to get him riled up. Or he gets up on a chair and dangles his tail like a fishing line, hoping to catch a puppy.
I bought both of the little guys collars with bells and bow ties. Cocoa adores his collar, prancing about just to hear it jingle. Fuzz, on the other hand, was horrified. He kept trying to sneak around without making noise. It literally took him 20 minutes to “sneak” up the stairs. He was so miserable that I took it off. He’s back to sneaking up on Cocoa and pouncing.
Cocoa has taken over Fuzz’s bed–not that Fuzz ever slept in it. Cocoa loves it. He contentedly curls up next to our bed so he won’t miss the moment I get up to use the bathroom in the night. He assumes that every time I get up, it’s time to eat.
Since he had been eating not only his food but anything Fuzz left for later and it was making him sick, I’ve had to portion out his meals. I’ve also moved Fuzz’s food up on a chair and placed a barrier around it so Cocoa can’t knock it off and eat it all. However, this morning I realized that Fuzz has been getting up on the table and knocking the half-packet of saved food off for Cocoa.
Because I don’t want to be stepping in poo or pee when I get up in the night, I’ve been trying to housebreak Cocoa. I tried putting a seed sack down. Fuzz and Cocoa used it as a Wrestlemania mat. Then, I got some artificial grass in the hope to encourage him to use the bathroom in a set area, but it’s only worked marginally so far.
Cocoa also came with fleas. Lots of fleas. Since Fuzz and Cocoa are Lucha libre fighters, Fuzz got fleas too. That meant a bath for the both of them. What a horrendous activity–crying, screeching, soaking wet, and then there were the unhappy animals! No one enjoyed the experience. When they were bundled up like burritos in towels, they finally calmed down.
The flea collars I bought haven’t completely eradicated the fleas–so I expect another bath is in order. In fact, the first time we put the collar on Fuzz he started foaming at the mouth. We think he may have licked it. A second attempt was more successful, thankfully.
With the two little guys upstairs, we’ve certainly have our hands full. But since we aren’t doing anything interesting otherwise, might as well raise two more young’uns in La Yacata.
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Surviving Mexico 