When I first got Itzl, he was the teeniest little puppy, not quite 4 weeks old. Yes, he was a rescue. He was going to be a pet dog.
When I was really, really young (6 or 7 years old), I was given a long haired Chihuahua for helping a woman take care of her dogs. She bred Chihuahuas and I spent most of my free time (and when you're 4 and 5 and 6, you have a LOT of free time) feeding, watering, and playing with her dogs and puppies. I liked them all, but wasn't attached to any one of them until this one tri-color long haired Chihuahua puppy decided she was mine and I loved her to pieces, to the point I played with her more than any of the others and would sneak back to the kennels at night to sleep with her. I named her "Angel" - the first of the puppies I ever named. And the woman decided it would be better if I kept the puppy than sneak out to sleep with her, so she gave me Angel for my very own.
My mother was a widow and she had a series of boyfriends. That year, her boyfriend hated kids and dogs. We kids were always gone or at least out of sight when he came over and I successfully hid Angel's existence from him for weeks, but he found her when I started school and made me keep her outside. Which I did during the day, but what I did after I went to bed was none of his business. It was a simple matter to pop the screen and slip out and bring Angel into the house. I did this until winter set in, and one night he caught me bringing Angel in. It was cold out, below freezing, and he forced me to put her outside - a teeny Chihuahua puppy. She was maybe 7 months old by then. Then he wouldn't let me go outside to sleep with her.
The next morning, Angel was dead of the cold. I never forgave him, and never forgot Angel.
I spent decades looking for another Chihuahua that called to me the way Angel did.
I had other dogs, all of them rescues. I had cats, too. I had a dachshund named Toby and a mutt named Mops and a German Shepherd named Valentine, and a cat named Troubles and a cat named Catmatyx, but none of them, wonderful as they were and as much as I loved them, were Angel.
When my hearing loss became profound enough to need a signal dog, I knew I'd have to get some dog other than the Chihuahua for which I was searching. Probably a German Shepherd, since I'd had a German Shepherd and knew their ways. But I'd also have a Chihuahua if I ever found my Angel again. There are service dog agencies that won't allow you to have a pet dog if you have a service dog, so I'd already decided I'd have to get a dog outside of an agency.
And then, 43 years later, I found Itzl, the Chihuahua I'd been searching for. He was going to be my pet dog.
Here he is on my desk at owrk the day after I got him, in a little bed made for pet hamsters or gerbils.
Here he is with a soda can for size comparison:
And here he is now, in a bed I made him because store-bought dog beds are all too big:
I never did get the German Shepherd hearing dog I thought I'd have because Itzl proved to be all the wonderfulness I remembered from Angel plus a lot more. That he proved to be an excellent hearing partner and took to the training as if he were meant to be my hearing partner made the four decade wait for him worth it.
He's not Angel, but he is the dog that satisfied my search, the dog I'd spent decades hunting.
Angel can finally rest in peace.