Ode to Tinker

She doesn't communicate like most dogs...no, my girl prefers to cry the way humans do. Like most small children she's deathly afraid of the blow dryer, wind shield wipers and pretty much any loud BANG!

Incredibly clumsy, she's been known to run head first into the staircase a time or two. A little on the prissy side, she'll never set all four paws in the cold, wet, snowy mess of winter. However, when spring does decide to role around it's puddles and sprinkler water she shuns.

God must have known what he was doing, cause Tinker is also a professional singer, who's not above taking part in one of my living room microphone hairbrush performances every now and again.

I still remember the look on her face the first night I brought her to my basement home. With ribs and hip bones poking through a thin fawn coat, my new puppy was indeed a sad sight to behold. Like most pound babies, it seems she'll never forget where she came from, or who rescued her.

So it doesn't matter how many hours I spend at work, her day doesn't start until I get home.
Cause in the world of my lovable 12 lbs. Chihuahua mutt, nothing beats falling asleep on her momma's lap.