Say "Hello" to My Little Friend!

Tony the Chihuahua is nestled snugly in a burrow of cardigan sweater and couch cushions. From this makeshift den he watches with one bleary eye cracked half-open as his owner recounts the story of his adoption; an adoption which, were it not for a bit of luck and some friendly persuasion from a long-term member of Cesar's Pack, might not have happened at all!

It was a visit from Calvin Millan's Chihuahua Coco that prompted Tony's owner, who had until that moment never even considered owning a dog, to begin searching for a tiny companion of her own. A visit to a rescue website turned up a photograph of a 10-year-old, solid color, short-haired Chihuahua, and the bond was nearly instantaneous. All of the necessary calls were made, questions answered, and checks completed, but just when the adoption seemed assured - after roommates, landlord, and fiancé had all been convinced - the notice came in from the rescue: Tony had already been claimed by another family.

With Tony unavailable, the idea of adopting another dog in his place seemed heartbreaking. But fortunes turned when the family who had claimed Tony could not afford to take him, and his adoption went to the next name on the list.

Better known these days as Snaggletooth Tony, Tony Bologna, Tony Minestrone, Mr. T, Big T, Iced T, Antonio (with the stress on the 'Yo'), or Mooch, Tony has become a sort of unofficial mascot at the Cesar Millan, Inc. offices. His friendly demeanor and agreeable inclination toward lap sitting and burrowing make it easy for the CMI staff to forgive his sometimes uncontrollable flatulence, and his owner's progress with his health problems and licking obsession have made him a positive success story. Today he is awaiting a visit from Lucy the pit bull to work on socializing him with other dogs.

Back in the air-conditioned office, his tiny mouth, mostly toothless, splits in a wide, tongue-rolling yawn and he shuts his open eye, tunneling deeper into his cardigan den. He shivers. The interview now over, his owner covers his exposed shoulders with a sweater sleeve and pats his head. And from somewhere beneath the folds of material, a short sigh of air suggests that we evacuate the office immediately.