Lily Grace heralded the unexpected arrival of her new pet sitter with all the big-dog attitude a five pound chihuahua could muster. She was deeply unsettled by the intrusion, stringing together dozens of ear piercing barks in the hope I would go away. Instead I stood near the door pretending to be deaf.
The tiny dog stood on the living room sofa across the room, the open kitchen to my right. Between us was wide open space. When I moved to pick up the bag of dog treats on the counter, Lily worked herself into a frenzy. I was going the wrong way!
I stepped back and sat on the floor. Stunned silence. But only for a moment. I stretched the quiet time by tossing a treat to Lily. Then another. Over the next several minutes she chased treats, venturing close enough to sniff my shoe. She was quiet. Until I stood up.
It was midday and I was there to take her for a walk. Lily was already in her harness with the leash attached to spare her the dread of being touched. As I reached down, shrill barking confirmed that handling was precisely what she anticipated. I picked up the end of the leash and we headed for the door without a peep. Other than repeatedly looking back over her shoulder at me, our first outing was uneventful.
When I returned at dinnertime, Lily greeted me at the door. She braved my touch in spite of being quite hand-shy and super sensitive to my movements, especially in the kitchen on that first day. There was nervous barking and Lily refused to eat unless I remained stock-still, a requirement that continued over several visits.
Day 2
The next morning my popularity soared when I poured her leftover breakfast kibble into my hand, sat on the floor, and, one by one, sent them racing across the polished wood floor for Lily to chase. She enjoyed the game so much, breakfast continued to be served on the fly. We added quick games after midday and evening walks too. Lilly would bubble with happy anticipation between the elevator and her front door.
More progress was made when I removed the leash that had been attached for two days. But the harness stayed on because handling remained somewhat cringe-y for her.
Day 3
Lily turned the tables on me, becoming distraught when I prepared to leave. I cannot overstate how damnably difficult it is to squeeze through a narrow door opening that so easily accommodates a tiny dog with lightning reflexes. Took two more visits to convince Lily that she could trust me to come back. And she succeeded there too. For the rest of the 6-day engagement, I would arrive to find my diminutive friend relaxed, happy, and ready for fun.
I look forward to our next game of kibble chase.
