When I was born, I was a dorky, little thing with smooth fur and big ears. I lived with an older lady who didn’t like that I was always under her feet. I just wanted to be close to her, but she didn’t seem to understand this. Then one day, she dropped me off at a building full of other animals. I waited and waited for her to come back. As more and more time passed, I grew worried that she’d forgotten about me.
Eventually, I stopped waiting and started looking for someone new to take me home. I’d try my hardest to look cute, but everyone ended up putting me back in the kennel and leaving without me. The workers at the building would say I wasn’t going to get very big, and this seemed to stop people from wanting me.
Then one day, a young girl came in, and I knew she’d be the one to take me home. When she opened the kennel, I leaped into her arms and put one paw on each side of her neck. I sniffed at her ear to make sure she was trustworthy, which made her laugh. She was clearly a keeper, but she still had to talk to the workers. When they told her I was going to stay small, she said she didn’t care. I couldn’t believe my ears.
On the drive home, she told me she’d never imagined she’d have a male dog – especially one that was only going to grow to be roughly twenty pounds. Over the years, I’ve often realized how difficult it is being little. I understand now why a lot of the people were looking for bigger dogs. Yet, I’ve realized being little has its perks too.
Mine, All Mine
For some strange reason, many people seem to think little things are cute. This belief has contributed to many of the perks I enjoy. Among these is a plethora of extra treats. I’m sure big dogs get extra treats sometimes too, but certainly not to the same extent.
My petite cuteness has gotten me plenty of the basic, boring dog treats. (Not that I’m complaining, but these are things just about any dog can get.) Even better, though, it’s gotten me lots and lots of delicious human food. Just to be clear, I’m referring to the food that humans eat, not food made from humans.
I have many fond memories of times where I’ve gotten human food, but two occasions stand out in my memory. The first of these took place at one of those fancy windows where you drive up and someone hands you a bag of food. As Emily (the girl who took me home) and I sat there waiting for the food, the man on the other side of the window asked if I liked roast beef. I wagged my tail and he disappeared. When he came back, he gave Emily a whopping handful of roast beef. I munched on it happily as we drove away.
On the second memorable occasion, we were parked outside of a building that had all sorts of awesome smells going on. A friendly-looking girl came out of the building, and I was determined to say hello. I scrambled onto Emily’s lap as she rolled down the window. Emily apologized to the girl, but she was happily scratching my head. She asked if I liked fries, and I licked her hand to assure her I did. She went inside and returned moments later with a packet of fries, just for me. Emily rolled her eyes, but I ignored her and helped myself to the goodies.
Another perk of being little is my ability to fit in places that no big dog ever could. Countless times I’ve squeezed my way into the comfiest of spots while other dogs are stuck lying on the cold, hard ground. When they try to fit, they either get told they’re too big or they end up in an uncomfortable position that requires constant readjusting.
It isn’t simply a matter of being able to fit, though. Some of my dog friends can fit on the couch just fine, but they get booted because they take up too much space. When you’re little, people seem to be fine with you being on the couch because you don’t take up much space. Plus, you’re light enough that you can get away with curling up on someone’s lap. Then, you use even less space and everyone talks about how cute and sweet you are.
In addition to fitting in tight spots and on laps, it’s easier to fit under tables. More importantly, being little means you can get away with it. Most people don’t like having big dogs under the table when they’re eating; they get in the way, and they tend to drool. Little dogs, on the other hand, are usually welcome because they can easily stay out of the way. Most of the time, no one even knows I’m under the table. I can help myself to any of the scraps the humans drop, and I don’t have to worry about competition.
Warm and Cozy
My favorite part of being little is being able to snuggle. I know big dogs can do this too, but it’s easier when you’re little. This means it happens more often, which is good news for me because I love to snuggle. I’m perfectly content when I have a lap to curl up on, and most people don’t complain about having you on their lap when you’re little. When you’re big, however, it’s a much different story.
Along with it being acceptable for you to lay on someone’s lap, it’s also okay for you to sleep on someone’s bed. Quite frankly, “bedtime” is one of my favorite words to hear from Emily because it means I can crawl under the covers and curl up in her arms. I’ve also gotten away with sleeping on her parent’s bed, which is something even their dog isn’t allowed to do – at least not when they’re in it.
Being little isn’t always great. The world is large and intimidating, there are lots of big creatures that could easily take you out, and you can’t see very much unless you get on higher ground. Yet, for me, the perks usually overshadow the negatives. I lead a very comfortable and enjoyable life, and I wouldn’t trade my little dog lifestyle for anything.