12 years ago on December 5th, a new addition to my family came along the way. Grace AKA (Woofers/Woofy) was adopted from a small ranch style home in Romulus Michigan. What I remember about the home was that it housed two Chihuahua breeders, an age gap couple, where the younger woman referred to her husband as Grandpa. About a week after we had adopted her, we actually saw the couple at a strip mall while going to Kroger in Dearborn Michigan.
I remember my mom telling me the story; my childhood best friend’s mom recommended… no, pushed the idea onto my mom that she should get a Chihuahua from these breeders. She told my mom that this Chihuahua was eventually going to be her Chihuahua since they live long lives and I’d eventually move out and go to college.
Mom had planned to get a boy Chihuahua, so when she went over to the house to pick up the dog, she was surprised when they told her that the boy dog had already been sold. Instead, they brought out the tiniest handheld pet named Jubilee who could fit into your palm. She was the runt of the litter and was born from a white chihuahua girl and a black chihuahua boy. There was also grandma Chihuahua who was still alive and running around the breeder’s messy house.
I remember going to the house, they had a bunch of cattail plants growing outside. The grandpa brought out this huge yellow snake which was wrapped around his neck. HE told us that he sleeps with the snake. It was a very interesting moment that I will always remember.
I remember the day I found out we were getting a dog. We were at my favorite restaurant at the time, TGI Fridays. I was turning 10 years old, and I had already sort of known that I was getting a dog. I asked her if we were getting a dog at the dinner table at TGI Fridays and she didn’t say anything, but the look on her face suggested that I was right.
My mom had hated the name Jubilee, so we came up with a list of names at the TGI Friday’s dinner table. we chose the name Grace based on the name my mom had been given in her Spanish class, for some reason.
The day my mom had brought Grace to me was one of the happiest days of my childhood. I was running around in circles, too excited to face my dog for the first time. I was screaming while running around. Grace was really shy and was sad the first couple of days, as she was torn away from her Chihuahua family. Her ears were still thin and floppy, and she was so tiny.
My dog was tiny, but like all Chihuahuas, she had a huge personality. Our old house in Dearborn Michigan had a mail slot which was guarded by a foyer door. Every time the mailman dropped off the mail, she would scream and cry until I opened the door to the foyer. I used to open to door and hold her while her little legs ran in place. When she got to the mail, she would usually tear it up. One notable thing she tore up in the mail was my passport which still has her bites marks through the cover to this day.
This hurts so much to write, but I thought I should put it into the world to help me heal, and to help me remember her. Growing up she was my best friend and she made it through many different chapters of my life. She had always known when I was upset; she would crawl under the blanket and sit there with me.
There were so many cool things about woofers. We would hold up her little dog food containers and circle them around her head while saying “do a twirl”. She was so talented that learned to stand on her back legs and spin around in a circle every time we told her to do a twirl.
She also used to do something that she had learned on her own called the “handstand pee”. Since she was such a tiny dog, she wanted her piss to have the biggest trajectory on every tree or fire hydrant we passed by on walks. She would stand on her front legs and lift up her blacklegs.
The vet told my mom that dogs are good at hiding pain. We didn’t know she had cancer until she collapsed on the morning of my birthday, December 5th, 2023. A tumor had been growing inside of her and her blood sugar was too low to undergo surgery so they had just put her down. Honestly, I don’t trust vets, I think some vets are negligent, but I admire them for the work they do in stressful positions.
Now I’m going through my camera roll, trying to keep it together, looking for pictures of her. She was the strongest, fiercest, most talented dog that I have ever known. It will be impossible to replace her, and even harder to say goodbye.
My grandpa loved the dog, on my mom’s side of the family we have a history of relatives who would adore small animals. My great Grandpa, my grandpa, and my mom all had small animal best friends.
If you knew her, I would really really appreciate it if you were to leave a comment about her, or maybe send me a picture at email@example.com. Thank you.