A little black Chihuahua re-re-named Cody became the latest unpaid guest (i.e., foster) at Little Pup Lodge. The animal shelter had him listed as "Roker," a baffling moniker from such a studiously, painfully PC shelter as one would expect to find in a county like Santa Cruz. Perhaps an employee there had someone different in mind than the famed, newly-svelte weather anchor, but to be on the safe side we went with “Big Al.” We didn’t like that one either, so Name Number Three should be the charm.
Cody rocks!
Beach boy.Cody is what we call a WTF shelter inhabitant, as in, “No one’s adopted him after three months? WTF!” He never barks, a phenomenally rare quality in Chihuahuas. He’s adorable. He likes kids and other dogs and is as smart as a whip (and no doubt smarter than a Whippet). Cody has a tiny problem distinguishing between the outdoors and my bedroom floor when it comes time to relieving himself. This is most likely because he was never allowed indoors, a depressing thought for such a small, chronically-chilled breed. However, Cody has made progress to the puppy pad and it is but a mere few feet to the front door and the poop-appropriate yard beyond. The next big step? Finding his perfect family.
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