He had never really liked his life. He was a ‘he’, but they painted his nails and put tiny bows in his hair. When he wanted to run, be free, he was often lifted as if some alien spacecraft was abducting him and put into one of their purses where each time he almost suffocated between the leaking bottles of sample perfumes and the disinfectant bleach wipes in which the packaging had become slightly ripped. Probably from those long, pointed, neon, sparkly bedecked nails. He shivered, but he wasn’t cold. He let the thought go. He had made an escape, as the air filled floating swan had made it to the edge of the pool, he was able to slink towards it and crawl on to it, and with a slight push of his back right leg, he took a slow spin out into the middle of the pool. He was far away from their grasping hands, their needy petting fingers, their creepy, scratching pointed nails. The only good things those hands ever gave him were the organic “Big Beefy Treats”, he may have had too many of them that afternoon, as he felt his stomach turn in an opposite spin of the flotation device.

With his back paws he was able to pull the lavender bows that had been pasted behind his ears and if he could he would remove the pink collar with the dangling crystal heart which held his name etched in it: Pepe, from his neck, if he could. Yet, there was no way to completely free himself from those large hairless apes lounging on their lounge chairs. The light splash of the water against the swan was soothing, he let his front legs hang over its edge just so the tips of his feet could feel the cool water. And just when he was about to slumber, he heard a loud screech, “OOOOOOH, look, look how CUTE Pepe is there on the water!”

He was surrounded by the family paparazzi, all of them held their cell phones in their hands, clicking and posting, he knew he had become a few-seconds star. He let his head hang lower, a sigh slipped through his hanging tongue. His nose almost touching the water, he thought could a dog drown itself. Probably not, the instincts would king in and he’d doggy paddle to the shallow end and the steps. Then,, his eyes looked up at one of the tables circling the pool, there was a corkscrew on it. Sharp. One way to end it all, this misery of being a Chihuahua.

It would have to wait, they were at the edge of the pool, each holding out a “Big Beefy Treat” in their hands. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, a dog (no matter how small) has got to do, what a dog has to do. At least for that treat!