I was out running errands the other day and I decided to pick up some food at Taco Bell. I used to be a big Taco Bell fan, because I read an article that said their cuisine is the healthiest fast food out there. In my thirties, I hated cooking and ate at Taco Bell 2-3 times every week. My normal order was usually 2-3 tacos, 1-2 burritos and a large drink and that’s probably why I was grossly obese for several decades.
Their menu back in the 1980s wasn’t very creative. Every month they would unveil a new item like the Beefy Mini Quesadilla, the Cheesarito, the Crunchwrap Supreme, the Indigestible, and the Double Tostada—all of which are now long gone.
So I picked up the food and started home. Less than one mile away, I saw a beautiful Golden Retriever and a Chihuahua out in the middle of a very busy road. They definitely looked guilty and didn’t know what to do. Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose, and my fear was that one of these mutts was going to get spooked, run in front of a car and lose its life.
I pulled right up to the pair and opened my passenger side door. I offered them a taco and the Retriever sniffed at it and backed off. Never talk to strangers especially if they offer treats, he thought wisely. The Chihuahua apparently had no issues with it and jumped right in!
I love Chihuahuas. We had a rescue named Gracie and she was a delight—no barking, no biting, no scooting and a total lap dog. She was patient and sweet and we had her for at least 5 years after adopting her at age 10. We also had a guest Chihuahua who would stay with us once in a while and she was the opposite of Gracie. When I met Choo Choo, the first thing he did was bit my nose, and it got worse from there.
Now back to the action. The Golden is panicking now and runs to the curb. I leave the Cheech in the vehicle and cross the street, and all of a sudden a truck comes flying around the corner. “Do you know these dogs?” I asked him. He answered affirmatively with a tone that was a combination of frustration and embarrassment.
“I’m constantly fixing my backyard fence, but these dogs keep finding ways to get out,” he said, followed by a litany of spicey words I can’t repeat.
I can totally relate. When I was a kid, we had a mutt named Maggie who was always an escape risk. My father reinforced all of the fences and gates in our back yard. He added chicken wire, looked for every little gap in the fence and patched it and even drove wooden stakes deep into the ground. But, it never worked and the dog got out all the time. Immediately after each escape, Maggie would go to the front door and wait patiently for someone to let her back in. The message was—"You can’t stop me from getting out!” It became a competition between man and dog, and the dog was winning.
So, back to the action--the dog’s owner has the Golden safely in his truck now--what was a relief. Then he looks at me and says“Where’s my Chihuahua?”
Oh no, I thought, the dog is in my car with all that Taco Bell!
By the time we got back to my vehicle, it was too late. The Chihuahua ate it all, including most of the wrappers too. The owner yelled at the dog, so he jumped into the backseat and looked very busted. There were lettuce and salsa all over my seats and believe it or not, cheese on the passenger side window!
The owner grabs the dog and then helps me to clean up the vehicle. He then gives me $20 to get more Taco Bell. I was happy to get the dogs back to their owner, although I really didn't do much, other than feed one of them. The last thing I saw was this fat little Chihuahua who didn't care--he got his and he was content. Priceless.
