So I was on my walk, and this tiny beige Chihuahua started yapping at me like I was going to invade its property. But I wasn't.
I was just on a walk.
But the Chihauhua be like, "Don't you know I live here?!"
I said, watch out. It's a Chihuahua.
And the dog just kept barking. It even followed me. I said, go away.
It eventually stopped barking and trotted over to a front yard. I guess it was living there.
Anyway, here I am. But let's say it went another way. The story I mean.
So I'm walking, and the Chihuahua starts barking.
"What in the world?"
"Get off my property!"
"I'm just taking a walk."
The Chihuahua is quiet. I stop walking and talk to it. "Is there a problem?"
The Chihuahua looks like he's thinking. Then he says, "No."
"Good."
I keep walking.
The Chihuahua and I meet again, on another walk. This time, he's studying me. Seeing whether I really will go on his property.
So I keep walking, and I get to the edge and I turn around. And I head back his way. He's all ready, teeth bared. His eyes are two glowing coals of fire.
"Bye."
The Chihuahua doesn't speak. He can't. He just watches. Watches me.
The third time, I take a walk. The Chihuahua doesn't care. He seems to be thinking. He seems to know I'm just taking a walk.
"I'm free!"
The fourth time, the Chihuahua: really quiet. He thinks, and then he turns around and runs away.
I think he learned to befriend.
Or at least not get so overprotective.
Suddenly, I have this crazy dream, where the Chihuahua transports me to another world, where Chihuahuas reign. These mighty dogs rule, the king and queen sitting on their thrones intimidating. But I'm on the throne, or at least the throne of the human food chain. It's called being a predator. And these dogs are dogs.
And I'm the human.
Anyway, the mighty king decries a war. A Chihuahua intruder has broken into the castle in which I stand, and has stolen the--
"Your daughter, Highness?"
"No!"
"The cooks, bakers, servants, farmers and Chihuahuas who pull the carts and sleds!"
"Oh."
I drop the act of being on top as I am led around the castle. The crops went bad, the carts are half-unused and...
"Please, sire, why sleds? You live in a desert!"
"They're for the winter lands! The summer lands are ruled by Golden Retrievers, Labrador Retrievers, Springer Spanels, Cocker Spaniels and King Charles Spaniels. And Corgis. The winter lands are where the huskies, Malamutes and wolves and foxes come out to fight and play."
"So, you want me to rescue them."
"With him."
I looked over, seeing a panting Chihuahua. He looked up at me. Then I looked closer. Wait--it was my neighborhood menace.
That Chihuahua. But wait. It's eyes weren't little black coals of fire.
At least not anymore.
So we went on this adventure, me learning to...
Wait. What did I learn?
Hm. I don't think I have anything to learn. Just a little adventure.
Anyway, just me and the dog.
The story continues the next weekend.
The next time I jump into story, I save the whole monarchy.
Then I sit up straight in my chair, and I type out such a story.
In my creative writing class, I tell it to the whole class.
It doesn't matter. It's just a story.
I get married. I tell it to my husband. He slaps his hand to his forehead. And says, That's where you've been all along!
Yeah, I retort.
Show me.
He goes. We both go.
Let's go! I always say. But he doesn't. He says I can go. But he returns to his drawings. I get inspired. I think of a good storyline. You would think I was going to write about a painting or something, but watch out--I don't. It has nothing to do with the painting.
It has to do with the limo my husband and I rode to the marvelous mansion that is our home. When we got here, I stepped out and...
I don't want to be boring.
So anyway, my husband and I owned a couple of Chihuahuas. We didn't want to get all fantasy about it. It wasn't like us to both go, but I wanted to turn them into characters for my novels.
So my husband and I went. I went to his board meetings. I went to his friends' and coworkers' funerals. I went to his weight loss surgery. But when he got all that weight back, I yelled that I had paid for that surgery.
"Babe, you gotta be there for me!"
"I am!"
He turned away. I just want a marriage where I don't have to suffer like this. He told me he'd pay for the next one. He better not put on weight. He promised.
He worked out, but I encouraged him to go about it an easy way. I said for him to work on it. He said okay. I worked on my novels. He said he'd do this for me.
"No, baby. For yourself."
He did.
I was proud. He was proud. He read my stories. Then I said I would like to write a memoir. Of us.
I said I would like to make it about him, not just about me. I had admitted I was selfish in the past. I was self-serving. I was ugly. I had even submitted a novel about me.
He said he had been selfish. And ugly. I wanted to have a happy marriage. A joyful one.
Ten years passed, and I don't understand. I had published that memoir, but where has it gone?
Oh, that was just a dream. Gotcha!
Did you believe me? Did you? Because I wrote us as fighting those evil animals in the world with the Chichuahuas. Then I wrote another book close to it called What it would look like if I had been an author named Chihuahua and had freaking powers to transform into a Chihuahua--
No, my husband stopped me. No. Don't.
Please.
I didn't. Truly.
He kept that weight off.
Truly.
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