I’m staying under the covers today. It is very cold. Mazi doesn’t seem to mind — but then again, she has a lot of fur. Not me. I’m more of a hot-deck-in-the-summertime dog.
You might get the idea that I liked Pogo more than I like Mazi. Well, maybe that’s true. Pogo and I were family for six years. I miss him, even though he was kind of smelly. He was just a little bigger than me — not a LOT bigger, like Mazi. And Pogo understood that I rule the house. Mazi understands that too, but she has a hard time showing the proper respect. She’s so big and, well young, that she gets excited sometimes and runs over me when we’re going outside. Or she jumps up against me while I’m laying on the couch. But that Pogo — he understood how to treat a Chihuahua Princess.
One day a couple of years ago, Pogo was playing in the house like he usually did. Then he just laid down and went to sleep, and didn’t wake up. My family was very upset. They cried a lot. I was very sad too, but I knew Pogo was not feeling very well for a long time. He didn’t jump up and down or chase toys like he had before. My family used to say his name fit him because he was like a “pogo stick” — whatever that is.
Pogo was my good friend and sometimes I think I still see or hear him around the house. A lot of people don’t know that dogs can love each other. Pogo was my brother and friend, and I miss him.