With the passing of my littlest dog at 9:57p.m. on Sunday May the 5th 2024 I decided to make a commemorative blog about the little guy. Nacho the Chihuaha came into my life with a deep rooted vein of toxicity, but he was loved. In July of 2017 at a friends graduation party he was given as a gift not to me, but to a friend of my new wife at the time. She pulled out all the stops to convince me to take him including using the phrase, “If you don’t take him his blood will be on your hands!” Not having had a dog before I said, okay, but I will need some adjustment time. After repeated capitulation on my part I said, “Just give me a week before we let him on the bed.” That night not only was he placed on the bed, but he may or may not have been placed on my pillow; however, he ended up there and peed on my pillow to which it was said, “Yeah, Nacho that’s showing daddy whose boss!” Those who have been given opportunity have commented on this about how it was one of the many stories about how my wife never valued our marriage from the start. I felt completely devalued, but he was the dog and at least he wasn’t dead, yet. Eventually, he began to respect me slightly as he found that he could get rewards from both of us if he was first obedient, but then acted disobedient. The little cheesy boy was overtly cheeky.
Nacho always tried to be in charge, but it wasn’t until the other dogs joined the family that he found obedient followers. He would locate and determine where food was located and use the larger dogs as pawns to help him get his way. He was the Master of the team master blaster, and if you could meet Parker you would know why his flatulence justifies blaster for a nickname. They became the dynamic duo of doggy mischief on my house, and the way Parker would know someone was okay would be if he saw the other dogs being good with those people, especially Nacho.
I thought of how Nacho used to like many Chihuahua’s as they get old if they are on furniture asleep… he would roll over and fall off the bed. Nomatter what he would get up shortly after and be okay. There were several times I used my training in Physical Therapy to help him, but he was a fighter and a tumbleweed. Not to mention the santa suit that my sister sent him that was the same year we came across Larry the Cable guys Christmas songs. If you know you know and if you don’t, trust me you don’t want to. But this guy was the snuggliest little doggy you’d ever meet. He always wanted a blanket and would find anyone laying on the ground and hide in it. He loved laying on my chest and laying with me for warmth… probably because I am a human blast furnace, but he loved it so very much.
Nacho will be missed, but not forgotten as Sir Yippy Yipsalot from Ypsilanti.
MundyWrites 
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