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“SHOTZEE”

It was 2:00 AM on Wednesday, July 22, 2009, at Mitchell’s Mountain View Kennel in Tunkhannock,
Pa., when the tiniest of K-9 flesh entered this world. Given the name “Hot Shot,” this little creature
weighed-in at a mere 2 pounds, 6 ounces, healthy but rather smallish for even the purest Chihuahua
standards. At the time, little did I know our life paths would eventually cross in such an unexpected
fashion.
Some years before 2009, my loving wife and I eventually inherited a Chihuahua that her son had
brought home to be “his” dog. And, as it so often happens, given my stepson’s college departure,
“his” dog, “Spark,” soon became Mom’s and Dad’s own pet. Of course, the years quickly went by and
at the age of sixteen “Spark” sadly passed away in February of 2012.
Losing our inherited dog was quite emotionally difficult. For a Chihuahua, “Spark” was a very even-
tempered animal with a pleasant disposition. Given the psychological strain of losing a family friend,
to which we became extremely attached, left us both rather adverse to seeking any means of
replacement. Then, as fate would have it, in late September of 2012, we attended the Bloomsburg
Fair. While casually sauntering the fair ground, my wife spots the building that houses their annual
‘Dog Show’ and insists we take a walk-through for nostalgic purposes. Fresh off our recent loss, I
reluctantly agreed but stated, “we’re not looking for another dog!”
Having been in to see the K-9’s during previous fairs, there was one woman that operated a kennel
we got to somewhat know. She specifically raised small breeds such as Pomeranians, Yorkies, Toy
Poodles and, of course, Chihuahuas. After spending a lengthy amount of time sharing stories, we
were about to depart when I noticed a “little guy” in the very last bottom spot in the run of cages she
was displaying her dogs. Every K-9 in the entire building was spastic, barking, wining, growling,
jumping and generally going ‘doggie’ berserk, except for this one “Little Guy.” For some reason, he
was fast asleep, completely oblivious to the crowd, the noise and/or all the commotion. Immediately,
I questioned if it was one of her dogs and if he was always this sedate, given the surroundings? She
responded, “for a Chihuahua, he has an unusually calm demeanor. Given his attractive proportions,
overall appearance, and being a long-hair male, I’ve taken “Hot Shot” to shows but have continued
keeping him for breeding purposes, etc. Would you really like to see him?” Then it happened,…
before even answering, all four pounds, two ounces of this ‘furball’ was out of its’ cage, still sleeping
on the underside of my forearm while comfortably receptive to a most desirable ‘belly-rub.’ As we
finally left all the dogs, I was still amazed with the trait of a Chihuahua that had such a calm and
quiet reserve. The only dog on display, not to mind the uncertainty of that evening’s environment.
As we rolled into late October, unbeknownst to me, my wife had some follow up contact with the
kennel and the breeder informed her, she too was amazed with how this dog had reacted to me. She
said, “although the dog in question was usually calm, rarely if ever, did he remain completely
comfortable with anyone else for that long. And, perhaps visiting him in his everyday surroundings
would produce a contrasting reaction. So, on the final Saturday of the month, we were off to the
kennel to see if the “Little Guy” would remain staid in my presence. Shortly after arrival the woman
breeder once again handed me the dog and watched as the “Little Guy” settled in for another ‘belly-
rub’ and belated nap. In summary, the reaction to our visit resulted in a rather repeat performance.

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In November, as the calendar drew closer and closer to Thanksgiving, the breeder subsequently
contacted my wife to again say she originally hadn’t any intention of selling the dog at this time. But
breeding purposes aside, she said her utmost priority was having the animal end up with someone it
was most comfortable. She said, “contrary to customary practice, sometimes a dog chooses the
person instead of a person choosing the dog. And there’s little doubt this dog has chosen your
husband.”
Once more, on November 23, 2012, on that year’s ‘Black Friday,’ we were again on our way to the
kennel in Tunkhannock. Assuming this ‘mighty mite’ of a dog would persist in a mutual comfort level
and would still exhibit an apparent attraction toward me, I was already certain we weren’t returning
home without a ‘new’ family member. And although another month had passed since our last get
together, nothing had changed. My ‘furry little friend’ seemed remarkably familiar and rather glad to
see me. Destiny became reality during that magic moment, we instantly had a ‘new’ dog and this
“Little Long Hair” of Chihuahua flesh was now embarking on a totally different lifestyle. No longer
would he be vying for attention amongst a collection of other dogs. Never would he have to ever
grapple again for position on the kennel’s outdoor ‘dog run.’ No,… this “tiny fellow” was soon going
to thrive and enjoy the comfort and the individual spotlight that was coming with his new
surroundings.
Contemplating the likely uncertainties of his upcoming life changes, my wife suggested I hold and
comfort ‘my new best friend’ with some undivided attention on the ride to what was becoming his
new abode. Arriving home, I decided it would be wise to let him relieve himself. Putting him down in
the grass, he proceeded to quickly take care of his personal business. Pleased with his timeliness, I
tried picking him up again only to be surprised when he persisted in putting on an exhibition of the
speed and agility acquired during his years exercising on the kennel’s crowded dog-run. Lightening
quick, almost cheetah-like, I soon learned this ‘little guy’ could also turn on a dime and give you nine
cents change in return. If not for my wife and I cutting off his escape exit, catching him would likely
have been an impossibility. Averting the potential disaster of a permanently lost dog, we finally
entered our bi-level home and reached the upper-most landing when he thought this the perfect
opportunity to now exhibit his athletically acrobatic skills by jumping from my arms, a mere twelve to
fifteen feet through the air, to ‘stick’ a ‘four-leg’ landing right in front of the door we’d just entered.
Although tranquility and calmness eventually prevailed, a collar and leash had to soon become
standard policy, at least, for the near future.
Given the name “Hot Shot” at birth, I didn’t entirely dislike his ‘handle.’ But I hoped to settle on a
one-word name that would preserve original identity. The word “Hot” didn’t work in any singular
variation for me. Through the effortless process of elimination “Shot” had to be the operative word
of choice. Knowing there was a German word “Schatz” having the translational meaning of treasure, I
thought it had definite possibilities. But, for some reason, I didn’t think just renaming him “Schatz”
by itself told enough of our early story. Remembering this ‘little guy’ fell asleep when we first met, I
was still amazed he was comfortable enough to just “stack some z’s” right on my forearm. Wait,…
that’s it,… that’s it, the Z,Z,Z’s. His new name has to be “Shotzee!” Seems like we might have found
us a ‘sleeping treasure!’ So, from that day forward he became our “Shotzee.”
Years passed by with increasing frequency, and “Shotzee” settled in as the focus of two empty-
nesting, pet parents. In my frequent absence, he was happy to spend time in the company of my

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wife. She never missed an opportunity to address his every need. And although “Shotz” was always
receptive to her every attention, his ‘bonding’ to me only grew even greater as time passed. From
that very first Bloomsburg Fair meeting, for his own reason, I became his preferred human of choice.
I had never experienced a more resolute animal. Wherever I was in the house, he just ‘had’ to be
with me. When not sleeping in close proximity, he would intently watch my every move without
missing a single motion. Never would he voluntarily leave my side. At home, we became an
inseparable twosome.

On occasion, needing to go elsewhere, he relished the invitation to travel with me. Those were the
instances when we became “Two Guys in a Truck.” Going for rides was amongst his most favorite
things to do. Going for a ride in the car was fine, but riding in the truck was preferred because the
sightlines were so much better to view those ‘hapless species just roaming the streets.’ Sometimes a
trip to a ‘fast-food’ establishment might result in some off-falling morsels of real people ‘vittles.’
Except for the nerve-racking experiences of all those unpredictable veterinary visits over time, doggie
life was fairly good. Days turned into months as months became years and the aging process
gradually encroaches on the health of every living thing. So, it finally was, with “My Little Buddy Boy,
Shotzee!” As the function of his kidneys began to rapidly decline, so too did the chances for survival.
Thankfully, he wasn’t long suffering. But the very end will surely remain among the saddest times in
our lives. The grit and determination of “My Little Guy” to survive was heart wrenching. As it was
when we met, all he wanted was for me to hold him at the end. Doing so, he mercifully passed away
at 3:59 AM, early on Wednesday morning, October 25 th , 2023.
I shall ever be thankful for the stout dedication that bonded my “Furry Friend” to me. He will forever
remain a special part of my life. Yes,… I was surely blessed, and without reservation, will always
confess to loving “My Little Guy” to proportions well beyond my original expectation. Someday I trust
the “Good Lord” will reunite me with “My Shotzee” in our “Heavenly Home.” Rest in peace with our
enduring love, “Shotz”
In the end, we want to express our appreciation to “Cherished Companions” for their sympathetic
concern, caring sensitivity, and great attention to every detail while we were grieving the loss of our
dog. They couldn’t have been more accommodating. Again, thank you to one and all.