My Dog, the Vampire

*Warning:  If you do not have a dog for a pet, or are not a dog "person" then you may find this post somewhat repulsive and/or concerning.  However, if you do have a pet dog, then you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.

I recently adopted a dog from a local shelter during one of their "adoption days" at a local Pet Superstore.  The dog I chose is a Chipin, or a Chihuahua-Miniature Pinscher mix.  He's adorable, only weighs ten pounds on a good day, and seemed like he wouldn't mind living in my apartment too much.

Within the first hour of "owning" him, he bit me and pooped on my shirt.  He hated the treats that the shelter recommended to me, and getting a leash around his neck was like trying to lasso a bull.  I must say, we've come a long way since that first day.  We're so close, in fact, that he hates to leave my side and wants to be a part of EVERYTHING I do.  And when I say everything, I mean everything.  If I'm taking a shower, he has to be right outside the tub.  If I need to use the restroom, he has to come in the bathroom with me.  You get the point.

So then, it should have been no surprise to me when I learned that he had a special affection for trash.  Not just trash in general, but my trash.  And not all trash, but preferably trash that contained some type of my bodily fluid.  He has a particular preference for blood.

The first time I caught him with trash, he was lying beneath my dining room table with two shredded tissues that had been used to blow my nose, and I hate to say this, but a used feminine item.  I know, it's gross.  I freaked out, texted my best friend, and found out that her dogs too had a thing for, ahem, trash.  He'll still sneak out a used tissue from time to time, but I've mostly learned my lesson by keeping the trash out of his reach.

However, as you'll recall from my last post, I recently had facial surgery.  On my nose.  So of course, there was a plethora of bloody tissues in the trash can.  He didn't get much time alone with that trash, but he was able to shred, eat, destroy, and only God knows what else with those tissues in that short period of time.

And then there was the time that I sliced through my thumbnail with a vegetable peeler.  He was right there trying to lick the blood away.  Any scratch, any cut...he wants to lick it clean and then lick it some more.  The only conclusion that I can come to is that my dog, my sweet, sweet dog, was a Vampire in another life.  How else could such a tiny animal have such a thirst for blood?  I am truly baffled.

Currently Blood-Free,
Freeway Fairington