I've got a lot of Pep and Zip

Mutt

After Lil Bit went to her forever home, I brought home a white terrier mix with a wild underbite.  His name was Pepe and he was full of piss and vinegar.  I also brought home a little, elderly chihuahua who weighed all of 5 pounds; his name was Mutt.  I loved Mutter Butter.  He was so sweet and mellow.  Pepe, on the other hand, just wanted to play - all the time.  I would wake up at 4:30 in the morning to him playing fetch by himself with his tennis ball.  He would toss it in the air, let it bounce down the hall, then chase after it and sliiiide, occasionally crashing into the wall.  He also liked to bite feet, particularly toes, and he would grab my pant legs as I would walk down the hall, tripping me from time to time.  He would 'steal' water bottles, socks, slippers, anything he could carry and he loved to unroll the toilet paper from the holder.  He also liked to nip at my shirt, while bouncing up and down, and he would chew on my fingers and ankles whenever he got the chance.  While this was done playfully, it still was uncomfortable and sometimes actually painful!  When he would try to bite the jiggle part of my arms, I would hold him at arm's length and then he would then try to bite my wrists.  He was exhausting.  Pepe and Mutt stayed a few weeks before Mutt went back to his original foster, who ended up adopting him.  Pepe became a regular at Saturday Petsmart adoptions but no one was showing any interest.  One weekend, there was a new boy; a scrawny little chihuahua named Zippy and man, oh man, did he give Pepe a run for his money.  Those two played all day, nonstop.  Chewing, biting, wrestling, barking, and nipping.  I decided if Pepe or Zippy didn't get adopted that day, they were both coming home with me because those two wore each other out.  Turns out, neither did and they continued their play session at my house.  Pepe slept until 7 a.m. the next morning; he hadn't slept through a sunrise the whole time he'd been with us.  The minute he and Zippy woke up, however, they were back at it.  Frank would occasionally join in but it was always short-lived.  Daisy would just bark at the two as they streaked through the house and Lilly found a spot out of the way. 

Zippy

Fall Break was fast approaching and we always go to Michigan, as it's my absolute favorite time of year there.  The leaves are beautiful, the air is crisp and I can wear sweaters, something I can't do in Tucson since it's still well over 100 degrees in October.  This year, however, I began to wonder if going was such a good idea.  I worried about how we were going to travel across the country with five dogs.  It's kind of funny how easy the decision is when you really don't like any of the alternatives.  We loaded up the suburban, piled in the kids and dogs, and away we went.  About five hours into the trip, Pepe vomited all over me.  The night before, he had gotten into the Halloween decorations and ruined my fake bats and scorpions.  That explained why there was a bat head in my lap and scorpion legs all over my sweatshirt.  And Lilly hadn't barfed yet so I feared the fun hadn't even started.  Luckily, that was the end of the puke for the rest of the trip.
We made it to Michigan and it was chilly!  It was awesome.  Unfortunately, we don't have a fenced yard in Michigan like we do in Arizona, so every time one of the canines had to go out, someone had to go with them.  There is nothing sadder than an underweight chihuahua on a cold Michigan morning trying to pee while shivering uncontrollably.  Frank handled the cold surprisingly well.  He was kind of an old pro in Michigan and he surprised everyone in my family because he had turned into a really well-behaved boy, which was quite different than how he had behaved in the summer.  Pepe took his place as the rotten dog.  He barked at everyone, wouldn't mind, was bossy and rude and just was an overall stinker.  And I loved him.

Pep

Our vacation flew by and it was time to go back to Arizona.  By this time I had pretty much made up my mind that I was going to adopt Pepe, and probably Zippy too, but I knew it was going to be a delicate dance getting KC to agree.  I managed to make up excuses for a few weeks about why the dogs weren't going to the adoption events with me but eventually they had to go to one; this was right around Thanksgiving.  As we were getting ready to go, KC said something about how he hoped Pepe got adopted.  I got mad and began to pout.  How could he not love him as much as I did?  I left the house in a huff.  He called me on my cell and inquired what my problem was.  "I'm just on my way to get my heart broken," I dramatically replied.  He gave me the "this is what you agreed to" speech and we ended the call.  About an hour and a half later, he called me and said, "bring that damn dog home, I don't want your heart to be broken," and that is how Pepe officially became Pepper and how I came to love my husband even more than I already did.  About two weeks later, I made Zippy official too, but I didn't tell anyone.  Pep really did need Zip and vice versa; those two were still playing from sun up to sundown.  I figured I would just keep taking him with me on Saturdays and no one would be the wiser.  Of course, my conscious got the better of me and by Wednesday of the following week I had spilled my guts.  KC wasn't surprised at all, he has been with me for almost 19 years and knew it was just a matter of time.  And he agreed that they really are two peas in a pod. 

I'm happy to report that Zip has put on some weight, Pep still steals socks, then acts like he's killing them when he growls and shakes them ferociously, and they still wear each other out.  I decided that I am a permanent foster failure and can't bring home any more dogs.  I still go to the adoption events and lately, I have been kicking around fostering again; but they can only stay a week at a time or else I will get attached.  I'm hopeless.