Equal Time for Emi

Well, Emi did not appreciate all the attention Stevie got in the previous blog, and she demanded equal time.


After all, to some Emi is a Princess and to others she is a Bitch. And very often the lines between both are so blurred that you cannot tell where one begins and the other one ends.

I got Emi from the same shelter where I got Stevie.

Emi was caught as a stray, wandering the streets in the south end of New Bedford in December of 2005.

Her original dog tags said that she was from Puerto Rico, and it was obvious that she was not used to the cold of December as she shivered in the frigid holding kennel in the shelter. She was barely 9 pounds at the time, and that certainly was not enough weight to keep a dog warm, especially one that came from a tropical climate.

The shivering wasn't just from the cold, Emi was also very scared. Thus, during her holding period, I kept her in my office, which was warm and a lot less intimidating than the large and loud concrete holding kennel.

Pretty soon I fell in love with her.

Emi was a such a sweet doll. I especially loved the spikes on top of her head, which unfortunately never grew back after a careless groomer had shorn them off.

As such, I had to adopt her.

Emi became the Puerto Rican Princess. And she had to have a coat befitting a princess. It was too bad that the big dogs thought Emi's pink leopard-spot coat was a toy to be torn apart.

After I adopted Emi, I would bring her to work. And sometimes I would bring Gypsy, too.

Whenever I let both dogs outside, behind the shelter, to go to the bathroom, Emi would bound off after Gypsy, who pretty much ignored her.

Being from Puerto Rico, Emi's first New England winter was rather rough on her. For one thing, she could not walk in the snow. She would venture a few steps and then lay down in the snow, not being able to go any further.

I am glad to say that since then, Emi had adapted to our winters. And now, with her sweater on, she will bound outside in the snow with the other 2 big dogs.

When I first had Emi, she was very quiet and reticent, like a proper princess. But as she became more familiar with me and my office, her boldness started emerging.

After awhile, I had to tether Emi to my desk because she would go after the pit bulls and rottweilers that the animal control officers would bring in. This especially created problems since the ACOs had to walk by my office to get to the holding kennels.

The shelter had a rottweiler that gave birth to 10 pups. Mom and the babies were put in a private room, away from the stress of having to deal with other dogs in the kennels.

A towel had to be laid down at the bottom of the door because Emi would got up to the crack in the door and start antagonizing the mom and her pups.

It did not matter to Emi how big a dog was. She thought she was King Kong, just like most Chihuahuas did.

Even at home Emi ditched her previously reticent role and assumed the role of über-serious watch dog. Not only would she bark her head off at people coming into the house, she would continue barking, and even chasing as people passed from one room to the next. And if they passed through a door, Emi became even more agitated.

It was becoming obvious that Emi was asserting her ambition to be the bitch of the house. And it very quickly became apparent that she had targeted Big Fat Stevie to be her own personal bitch.

(We have yet to capture Emi's molestations of Stevie on video and put it up on YouTube. I'm sure it'll get a lot of hits.)

As mouthy and bitchy as she may get with other people, Emi has never bitten anybody except for one person. And that one person is now serving time in the Norfolk prison on a murder charge.

So now, when Emi expresses a strong and immediate dislike toward someone I had just met, I make sure that I pay extra attention.

But when it comes to her own human family, Emi is the sweetest thing ever who loves to cuddle and snuggle close when it's time for bed.