Che: The Mouse Hunter

I never was a dog person until a little Miniature Pinscher named Che came into my life. He immediately wrapped me around his dainty little pinky claw.

Che was the runt of his litter and his unscrupulous breeders sold him at 5 months old instead of 8. Needless to say, little Che had a rough start in life. He was hypoglycemic and didn’t know how to eat from a bowl because he still should have been nursing at his mother’s breast. I kept him inside my jacket or inside a pouch attached to my body, and at night he slept up against my belly because he couldn't maintain his own body heat. We were running up vet bills that we couldn’t afford and despite medical attention, he almost died four times in the first two months!

           One night, I woke up suddenly and felt that something was wrong. I touched little Che and could tell even in the dark that he was near death. I got up and turned on the light to look and was shocked at the sight my puppy. I could see almost every bone in his little body. He had deteriorated in just a few short hours while we slept.

I woke my husband up and put my helpless little pup into his hands. I could barely speak through the sobs. All I could say was, “Fix him... please fix him!” My husband cupped my little pup in his hands, held him to his heart and began to pray silently. After several minutes, he handed little Che back to me and said, “Don’t worry, he will be alright.” I let out a sigh of relief and felt the despair leave me…until I looked at the hopeless looking little puppy in my hands. He looked exactly the same. Tears ran down my cheeks as I carried him back to bed with me…fully expecting to have to bury him in the morning.

I dreaded opening my eyes the next morning. My heart was heavy and I knew what I was going to find somewhere next to me. I slowly raised myself up out of bed, being careful not to crush the lifeless little body…wherever it was. I turned around to pull back the covers and to my surprise two shiny little eyes were peeking at me from between the pillows. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! When I put my hand out to move the pillow, little Che half jumped and half rolled out to greet me.

He was still skinny, but not like he was only a few hours earlier. His eyes were full of life and he had so much energy, I almost couldn’t catch him. His little stubby tail was spinning like a propeller! I was finally able to scoop him up and take him to the kitchen to show my husband. When I walked into the kitchen, I held little Che up in front of my husband’s face and said, “Look, he’s all better!!!” My husband smiled and said, “I know, he woke me up this morning snuffling my ear!”

After that, little Che grew into big little Che in no time. He had the shiniest, blackest coat and he loved to take baths. He also turned out to be quite the mouser! Ironically, our two cats couldn’t be bothered with catching mice. They preferred Cheetoes and ice cream! But little Che would hunt far and wide for the little boogers! If he couldn’t find any indoors, he would hunt tirelessly outdoors! When fall set in, he had much success as the critters began seeking shelter from the rapidly changing climate.

One cold fall morning, my daughter and I were getting ready for school. I was still putting my make-up on at my vanity and my daughter, Melissa, was already dressed and lying across my bed watching cartoons. Little Che was on the bed chewing on his red ball…or what we thought was his red ball!

Melissa reached back over her head to get the ball to throw it. The wet sliminess of it didn’t cause any alarm. It wasn’t until she had it above her head, getting ready to throw it, that she realized she was holding a bloody internal organ!!! She jumped up, screaming incoherently and pointed to the bed. Of course this scared the daylights out of me, so I am jumping, pointing and screaming too!

Amidst all the commotion, there sat little Che, cocking his pointy earred head to one side trying to figure out what all the fuss is about, and between his dainty little paws were the remains of a fat, juicy mouse with most of his insides lying on my brand new, but slightly blood stained comforter!!! As soon as I saw all the glistening guts and gore, my stomach began to churn, and before I knew what was happening, I was on my hands and knees dry heaving! Last night’s meal was working its way up my throat, and I was dripping cold sweat and makeup onto the carpet.

Somewhere in all the commotion, Melissa, who was now calm, started cleaning up. I tried to pull myself together, but every time I got a glimpse of the glistening bits of flesh, I was dry heaving on the floor again! Meanwhile, little Che just sat there, sadly watching his juicy tidbits being bagged and tagged.

Two or three weeks later, on a cold Saturday afternoon, we were relaxing in robes and jammies while watching a movie. Che brought me one of his mini beanie baby toys so I could play catch with him. After a while, I was tired of playing so I ignored him. Well, he wasn’t having any of that! He grabbed his toys, jumped up on the sofa, dropped it in my lap, and then just sat there and waited. I reached down into my lap, picked up the toy to put it on the end table, but to my horror, it was not a mini beanie baby…it was WHAT WAS LEFT of THE MOUSE’S HEAD from the bed incident a few weeks  earlier! Mind you… my family is totally engross in the movie when suddenly I jump up off the sofa, screaming my head off and ran across the living room, frantically flapping my robe,  while my husband, daughter and little Che looked on with their heads cocked to one side!

We enjoyed six years of comical min pin antics with little Che. He was as bold and courageous as he was funny. But he became ill over night and died in my arms on July 8, 2006. We later discovered that he had been poisoned by kids roaming the neighborhood looking for houses to break into.

His death was a traumatic experience for me because my father-in-law had passed the month before and my heart was still tender from that. Che had survived death so many times before, and I just knew he would be okay this time too, not knowing he had been poisoned. I held him in my arms and kept telling him that he would feel better soon and he would be running and playing in the green grass in no time. But my little Che took his last breath around midnight.

I was so devastated! I had never lost a pet like that and the images haunted me for days. I couldn’t eat or sleep, and I finally had to force myself go to bed. I asked God to take away the sadness and the haunting images so I could sleep and hopefully have peaceful dreams.

It seems that as soon as I laid my head down and fell asleep, I immediately  stepped into a grassy meadow. It was a bright beautiful day with clear blue skies that went on forever. There was a wonderfully cool breeze blowing through my hair and caressing my skin. I was standing in soft green grass that felt cool on my feet and ankles. In the distance I saw a man approaching. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t see his face very well. I watched him closely as he came into sight and then I realized it was my father-in-law. He yelled to me, “Mija, don’t worry, your little dog is here!“ Right at that moment, Che ran from somewhere behind me, stopping in the middle of the meadow, with one paw picked up in his birddog stance, looking expectantly toward my father-in-law.

Then suddenly, my father-in-law was right next to me! He looked at me with the sweet smile I always loved so much and said, “Mija, ya no llores…don’t cry anymore!”  Then he was suddenly in the middle of the field, walking away as little Che pranced by his side, looking expectantly up at Papalito's hand , as if he was waiting for him to throw a ball or something!

I woke up just as my husband sat on the side of the bed to check on me. I was completely at peace and I awoke with a smile on my face. My husband said, “Wow you’re smiling!” I said, “Yes, it’s because I just saw Papalito, and he told me not to cry anymore because Che is with him. We were in a beautiful green meadow, and all the colors were clear and crisp. It looked like Papalito was getting ready to play catch with Che in the big meadow!”

Later while I was preparing myself something to eat, I recalled that I had  promised Che that he would feel better soon and he would be running and playing in the green grass again...and he did! 

In times such as this, I am reminded that God cares about all the things, big and small, that are concerns to us. In I Peter 5:7 it says, Cast all your cares (concerns, worries, troubles, problems, anxieties, fears, burdens) upon Him for he cares for you. There is nothing God can't fix... from a broken helpless puppy to a broken wounded heart or a shattered life. God is the way maker & the burden lifter. What can He do for you today that you have not been able to do for yourself?