Monday, August 03, 2009

Feral Chihuahua

"Feral Chihuahua", said Mars.

I had been focusing like a laser on my impending tee shot so, while I heard her words, I had no idea what she was talking about. In fairness Mars might rephrase "focusing like a laser" to "cluelessly unaware of my surroundings", but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. In any event I looked up at her and saw her gesturing towards the area behind me -- between the first tee where I stood and the ninth hole about fifty yards away.

Therein was a russet brown, sturdy, bouncing Mexican Chihuahua. As I turned, it started yipping and bobbing even more rapidly. I took a step towards the nanoscale sized canine and it retreated rapidly to the center of the adjacent short-grass putting surface.

I advanced one more stride and it began circling the number nine flagpole, barking incessantly and somehow keeping its eyes focused like a laser on me.

The golf course, as I have written elsewhere, is located within an urban, public park so Fidos on the fairway are not that unusual. Normally they are accompanied. But in the instance there was no potential Chihuahua owner in sight.

As I began to ponder what to do the small, smooth-haired dog began running back up the ninth fairway and out of our sphere of influence.

"Feral Chihuahua" I thought to my self and laughed at the silliness of the idea -- almost as foolish as the appearance of the tiny brown canine defending the Ninth green.

Or maybe not. Searching on for "feral Chihuahua" I was presented with:

Bloodlusting Chihuahuas Kill Thousands.
According to the Los Angeles Times, "A Los Angeles County Superior Court judge must decide whether feral Chihuahuas, confiscated from a ranch, are suitable for rescue or must be destroyed. That's right. Feral Chihuahuas."

And lest you doubt the veracity of an Internet blog entry that cites a real news organization, preceding this entry on my Google list was this entry:

Fate of Feral Chihuahuas Divides California Town : NPR
NPR's Scott Simon talks with Steve Padilla of the Los Angeles Times about the fate of 174 feral chihuahua dogs in a Los Angeles shelter.
Here is the link:

The dogs apparently were brought to a ranch in the Greater L.A. area but not cared for. So they took matters into their own paws. They were described by one of the investigating reporters as "like Coyotes that fit in a handbag...bearing their little tiny teeth."

The interviewee pointed out that this was entirely a manmade problem. "There are no packs of Chihuahuas roaming the Great Plains."

Nor apparently at our local public golf course. Not at least that Mars and I have seen. Maybe the hawks that regularly patrol the area from their fairway-side tree-towers enjoy Mexican food too much to allow anything like that to happen. More likely all of the Chihuahuas in this neighborhood each have their own beloved human pack to run with. And our noisy intruder simply returned to his.

That was last Monday. Today we played again on the same course. There were no Chihuahuas in sight.

But, as we were unloading Mars' golf cart after finishing our round, a very feral looking dark gray squirrel hopped into the small motorized vehicle and began rooting around in the two glove compartments -- where we had carried our snacks -- looking for food.

He was completed undeterred by our presence and our activities in and around the cart, to the extent that he had to be seduced out of it by Mars using a few almonds that she had not yet eaten.

All in all he seemed a lot friendlier than the Chihuahua. In fact I am pretty sure I heard him start to say "Yo quiero..." but a small Yellow Lab pup passing by with its walker interrupted him.

Come for the golf! Stay for the wildlife!

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