Frida Lu

 This is Frida Lu. 

I adopted her from the Lexi-Dog/Oregon Humane Society Second Chance program in 2013 when she was two years old. The name they had given her was 'Merrily', and if you knew her for even ten seconds, you'd understand what an insult that would be had she had been aware of it. At the time I was a regular volunteer at the Humane Society as a placement coordinator and as a vet assistant because I'd been laid off for a time and was exploring pet services as a career alternative to engineering (hahaha). There were many dogs I fostered from 2012-2015 that I didn't want to adopt. This dog was different- I immediately knew she needed to come with me. She came from a kill-shelter in California and had just whelped her puppies in foster care. That's all I knew about her past but what I could see about her the day I met her for her morning walk. Her kennel was tidy after being in all night, and she walked very nicely with her ears turned towards me while we walked. I brought my first dog Bettie along to see how they would pair. I could tell she had a sense of dignity that needed to be maintained, that she was a very intelligent, intense and serious little dog. She was not ever put back into a kennel after that walk. 

 Frida on the left on her freedom ride 2/2013

Frida likes to eat and kill. She also seems to slightly enjoy policing young pups, fence-fighting, pooping on shrubs, sniffing at horses, belly rubs in the sun and pretending to murder small furry animals.

Frida and Bettie homies 4 evah.

Frida does not like bubble wrap, noisy jackets, delivery people, lemons, vacuums, statues of Buddha, baths, vets or spinach. Although she has generally a fearful temperament, these specific dislikes are probably my fault.

Frida tolerating Mini in her bed so nicely that I thought I should document it quickly.

I used to take her everywhere, which included places like parties with people. She responded by suddenly snapping at people who were petting her. I responded by not going to these stupid parties anymore. I refer to her as my Consent Dog because Frida does not think that you should put your disgusting human hands on her if she doesn't know you well enough. That's fair, Frida!  

Observe the "No Petting" warning on her harness. It's there for a reason, and no, you're not the most amazing dog whisperer who will prove me wrong.

This dog is 25% Chihuahua, 12.5% poodle, and the rest was identified as a terrier/hunting/companion combination, which is pretty ubermutty! We thought a DNA test would clarify her mix, but it didn't at all, really.

Hot tip: liquid chalk markers can turn any stern dog into a stern skunk.

My enjoyment of Frida in costume is directly proportional to her dismay for it.

This is one of the first series of rats Frida killed while we were living in a dilapidated but delightful cottage with a cat door. I mention the cat door specifically because the rats next door figured out how to use it to gain access to my home at night. But they would never come home because Frida was waiting for them in the kitchen. I couldn't figure out why dead rats were showing up in my house all the sudden. It was because she was murdering them with such speed and efficiency that it was happening without waking me.

I used to have a little green truck, and Frida did not like to be in it. 

Frida is also an excellent trail dog. She knows how to stay cool by staying in your shadow.

It is a fact that her head is 2/3 ears and 1/3 snoot.