Nicknames: minion of Satan, small, boxes moxes, little dog
Likes: couches, beds, jumping up to bite humans' butts, and snuggling
Pet-Peeves: baths and anything/ anyone my sister barks at/ water (burns my flesh)/ getting my nails cut
Favorite Toy: anything plush that makes noise, also my sister Ek Be
Favorite Food: garbage of all sorts (even tissues), also fruits and stale tortillas (corn)
Favorite Walk: the beach (although it's a run)
Best Tricks: sneaking on the couch the moment humans depart a room
Arrival Story: When we found Box Pek, she was a hairless skeletal little dog getting rocked by several Maya guys for amusement (yes, throwing rocks at her to laugh as she got hit). We were walking through the center of the Mexican pueblo where we live during the summer. I managed to walk past once, giving the guys dirty looks, mentioning to my husband that now that we bought a house, we could get a second dog. On the way back I couldn't take it any more and we picked up Box Pek and took her home. Shortly afterwards, she broke her leg (calcium deficiency), but since that time, she's been very healthy. She's full grown, but smaller than her sister, Ek Be, because she was about 7 months old when we found her, so she lacked good nutrition for most of her puppy-hood.
By the way, if anyone would like to adopt a Maya dog, I'd be more than happy to import one for you next summer - they're all really sweet and quickly take to human kindness.
Bio: It's pronounced Bowsh (not "box") Pek; meaning "black dog" in Maya - not too creative with this one. Like her sister, she objects to the "mutt" label and prefers "Maya"; her curly tail and butt hair indicate that her heritage may have some infusions lacking in the genes of her sister, however. She also has an unusual "mohawk" hair feature running on the top of her head that we've not seen in other Maya dogs.
Box Pek took a turn for the worse at the end of 2007. I got back from visiting my parents for Christmas and she looked wilted. I gave her extra doses of all of her meds and she visited every vet in the area. In the end, after several days of BP pacing, only feeling comfortable for short periods of times when I held and supported her swollen belly, she was tired of fighting. I didn't have the courage to put her down right away, but two days later, on some Demerol, she slept in her little bed under her blanket. She is buried under a new Granny Smith apple tree. She always was a little tart.
In late January, I started feeling sick. At first I just felt tired and didn't eat too much. Then I lost more weight. Then I started drinking a lot (just water). So, my mom took me to the vet's and (after far too much probing) they took some of my blood - the vampires - and my mom found out that I had major liver issues. At first, the vet just gave me some incredibly nasty food to eat. I wouldn't eat it. Eventually, I generally stopped eating, went through several IVs, lots of bloodwork, belly shaving (ultrasound), and finally my mother cruelly began force-feeding me! Anyway, now it's April and I may be starting to get better after being on steroids for several weeks. At first, I was worried about excessive hair growth. Then I thought - hey - I'm a little dog who naturally has a bald belly - maybe I could use some hair! So, now I eat an incredible amount (preferably eggs cooked in lots of butter, Ben & Jerry's vanilla ice cream with Boost nutritional drink, and very thinly sliced turkey and ham). At last this week my bloodwork is improving, so I may get to go back to my homeland with my mom and sister this summer. Some dogster friends have started having a card party for me - thanks! It cheers my mom up. When she's happy, I get new clothes. Unlike my sister, I do rather like to wear clothes, but that's another story.
People and dogs who know me know that I love to chatter...I don't mean that typical obnoxious yapping that characterizes most small dogs (I am only small outside, my inner dog is actually quite large, by the way), but instead I like to talk. I like to talk when others are talking, when my people are on the phone, if I want them to put my special blanket on the couch so that I can get up on it...
I've really always liked to chatter...see my first photo (the one with no hair)? I could barely stand up, but I started chattering soon after this. Getting up off of the pillow that my mother had mistakenly given me for a bed after she found me, I teetered over to my sister's real bed (one of those couch-style ones - I have my own now too) and began rolling around making (small) crazy monkey hooting and chattering noises. A few days later, I broke my leg (also dislocating my joint) trying to jump off something that was a bit too high. My father got in big trouble for not watching me more carefully. I screamed for quite a while after this, but then began to chatter some more.
Nowadays, I chatter a lot when my bed cover has been washed, or when a human asks me a question that I don't quite understand. I also LOVE to make a variety of noises when my sister, Ek Be, and I wrestle. We can both make extremely high-pitched noises (while wrestling) that most people don't associated with dogs.