We started calling him Rico last night. We each had ideas for names — the shelter names each pet — and John wanted something that sounded at least a bit Hispanic since he’s a chihuahua mix. Rico is the only one we could agree on.
I should mention that a woman John works with originally found him and brought him into work. John called me about talking to the shelter where I volunteer, with us offering to foster him while they found a new home.
First, we have to make sure he’s not just lost. I called the pounds, vet offices, police departments… all asking if anyone reported him lost. And I left our information so if someone called in, they could call us to get him back.
He was good in John’s van, immediately going in the back as if he had ridden in the van before.
We gave him a bath since he was dirty. He behaved beautifully in the tub, even cradling his head in my hand as I washed his ears. He had VERY long toenails that looked like the pictures of those monks that grow them for 30 years. They actually hurt his feet and made him limp. We were going to trim them, but he was so tired after such a long day that we decided to let him alone. Boy, can he snore!! You can’t believe how loud this little body can be!
Elphie really likes him and is amazed that a dog is smaller than her. He’s not fixed and first came off as “Helloooo, ladies!” But they told him, “Yeah, that’s not happening.” and everything was fine. Casey is fine with him, except when he sleeps on her little blanket in her crate.
Pam from the shelter took him to the vet today for a wellness check. People at work think he’s a chihuahua mix with Corgi, but Pam thinks he’s full chihuahua.
But now the plot thickens:
The vet found he has an ID chip, but the phone number gave a disconnect message. Pam was going to go the address, but decided to check the number herself. It gave her another number to call and here’s the story.
First, his name is — ready? – Ricky. Oh the irony.
And he’s about 7 years old.
He belonged to a woman in our town who moved to Clementon. She gave him to a friend of her son’s and DOESN’T EVEN KNOW HIS NAME! She doesn’t want Ricky back, but doesn’t know if the son’s friend does. She can’t explain how this little dog ended miles from home.
The son doesn’t come home from work until 3 am. She’ll call him in the morning and get the name & number of Ricky’s owner. Pam will check out the place and ask the guy if he wants Ricky. We all think that this guy dumped Ricky out in the woods. He certainly didn’t take good care of him, but I do admit he did feed him. He’s not starving.
So we’re waiting to here if Ricky’s going back. I don’t like the idea; I don’t think this guy is taking care of him. Unfortunately, if he says he wants his dog back, we have no say.
Poor little guy; no wonder Rico looks at us like any minute we’re kicking him out of the house. No one has lived up to his trust so far.
We like Rico better, so that’s what I’m going to call him for now.
Pam also said someone at the vet wants to adopt him if he doesn’t go back to his owner.
Of course, we’ve already gotten attached. John’s thinking though that if the person at the vet has no dog or only 1 dog, maybe they should get Rico….
Pam did say though, when John mentioned we really like him and he’s settling in her very well — letting us pick him up now, laying at our feet, playing with Elphie or snuggling on his little towel (as a blanket) — that she would give us first dibs because she knows we’d take good care of him. And seeing how well he’s doing here.
Morgan’s only been gone a little under 6 weeks. I still can’t look at her pictures without hurting. I still see the void where she was. Rico doesn’t fill that.
But he’d be different, a different place in our lives. Another dog abandoned (if we’re right that this guy abandoned him) that found their way to us, shell shocked, trust shaky, with large eyes that look at us with the fear that we’ll turn on him too, shrinking into a corner while we whisper It’s okay, it’s okay….
But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe we’re just the stop on the line and we should let him go.
And that’s IF this guy doesn’t take him back…
PS: John liked the name Rico for the hispanic sound, but I actually got the name from Penguins of Madagascar. Then when I was giving him a bath, I kept talking soothingly to him to calm him. I said, “You don’t know it, but your name is Rico…” and it hit me. So I sang…
Your name is Rico
you’re a little dirty
with white and tan fur
and toenails out to there….
OMG, he just came to me for the first time to be petted. I didn’t have to go to him. And when I leaned down to pet him, he climbed into my lap and gave me kisses….