I AM DORRIE! by Dorrie, the Chihuahua

Hi!  My name is Dorrie, and I am a Chihuahua.   I started my life in Dodge City, Kansas, or someplace around there.  Dodge City is kind of famous because it was on the Santa Fe Trail, and also it was a big cow town.  Also there were a couple of guys named Wyatt Earp and Bat Masterson who used to live there.  Maybe you have heard of them.    Dodge City is in the southwest part of Kansas, about two-thirds of the way to Colorado, if you are going west from Missouri.  You can get to Dodge City from I-70 by taking the WaKeeney exit and then going south on highway 283.  If you find yourself in Oklahoma, that means you have gone too far.

In Dodge City, I ended up with a group called Pets Miracle Rescue.  I can't really tell you how I got there.  I might have been a stray or I might have been an owner surrender.  Probably I wasn't in a puppy mill because I had already been spayed when I got to the rescue group.  Also, my new mom is thinking that I got debarked because I haven't really barked since I've been at her house.  Mostly I just go "Boof! Boof!" if I'm excited.  I can also whimper and whine and make a really good screeching noise if I need to!

Anyway, in Dodge City, I got all my shots and I also got my teeth cleaned.  Then Pets Miracle handed me over to a group called New Beginnings.  They brought me and some other little dogs to Kansas City.  In Dodge City, it's hard to find adopters for all the dogs that need homes because there aren't enough people living there, so that's why we came to Kansas City.

I may be little, but I cast a long shadow!

Nobody knows how old I am, exactly.  On Petfinder and on Mom's adoption contract, it says I am 5 years old.  But on the paperwork that Mom got from Pets Miracle Rescue, it says I am 4 in one place and 7 in another.  I guess it doesn't matter too much, and a real lady doesn't tell her age anyway!

Mom says I fit in well here because I like to sleep a lot.  My new doggy siblings, Mel and Piper, are also into sleeping, and so are the cats.  A couple of nights ago, I got to meet the foster kittens when they came out of their room.  I wasn't sure what to think of them.  Usually cats are bigger than I am, but these cats were smaller!  I whimpered and whined and danced around while pawing at Mom's leg.  Mom said I should be nice to the kittens, and she watched me like a hawk.  She said a dog killed a kitten here before, and she didn't want that sad thing to happen again.  So I didn't kill any kittens or even chase them, but maybe I will some other time.  I've chased squirrels in the yard, and that was fun, so I know that I like chasing things.

Yesterday Mom and I got to do something very special and adventurous together.  We got up early, and we went to this event called Dog-n-Jog.  There were lots and lots of people and dogs there.  The purpose of it was to raise a whole bunch of money for the Humane Society of Greater Kansas City, which is where Mom is a volunteer.  I know this is a good cause, but I thought Dog-n-Jog was kind of scary because there was so much noise and so many people and dogs.

Mom took me around and introduced me to a bunch of her friends.  They all said I was really cute -- which is true, of course -- and several of them wanted to hold me.  So Mom kept handing me over to perfect strangers.  Mom hopes all this handling will make me more social and less shy, but she may be totally wrong about that.

Anyway, we went on the one-mile walk, and at first Mom carried me because there were too many big dogs that might have decided to eat me.  Or some big person might have stepped on me and squashed me like a bug.  But after a while, things cleared out, and Mom had me do some of the walking myself.  This was right after she mentioned that other small dogs were walking and not being carried.  Mom pointed out a tiny Yorkie as an example.  So I walked for a while, and when I got tired or scared, Mom picked me up again.

When we were at Dog-n-Jog, Mom ran into her hair stylist, Doug, and his partner, Mike.  They had their two shih-tzus with them, and the two dogs got to ride in a special stroller thingy!  I also saw some Chihuahuas riding in one of these strollers later.  I came home and told Piper about it, and we agree that Mom should buy us one of them.  Then we could go for all kinds of long walks without getting tired at all!

There was a costume contest at Dog-n-Jog, but Mom did not make me enter it, thankfully.  We saw a lot of people with dogs in costumes, including this man with a beard who had two Pomeranians.  At least we think they were Pomeranians.  It was kind of hard to tell.

One thing that happened at Dog-n-Jog was that I got something called a microchip.  Mom forgot to have Dr. Vodraska put one in me, so when she found out that the Humane Society was doing it at Dog-n-Jog, she was very happy.  What she didn't tell me was that getting a microchip hurts because the chip is almost as big as a Chihuahua, and they use a really big needle to put it in.  So I shrieked when they stuck me, but after a while, it stopped hurting, and now I am all identified.

Another thing that happened was that we got our picture taken by a fancy photographer.  Someday we will get this photo sent to us by email, but since I wanted to put a photo of Mom and me in this blog entry, Mom asked one of her friends to take a picture of us.  As you can see, I am looking a little bashful and demur.  This is the way I look when I am nervous, so I looked this way pretty much the whole time we were there.

I was really glad when we finally left, and on the way home, I could hardly keep my eyes open in the car.  Thank goodness I didn't have anything else on my calendar yesterday, because I really needed to get rested up!