Tag: sighthound personality

Our Tiny Whippet’s First Days: When Smart Meets Mischievous

Fuega had been home exactly three days when we realized we hadn’t adopted a dog—we’d invited a tiny hurricane to live with us. And this hurricane had opinions about everything.

Remember how she was barely five pounds when she chose Rex at my sister’s house? Well, it turns out that being the smallest doesn’t mean being the quietest. Not by a long shot.

The Great Weight Fluctuation Drama

First came the discovery that our little girl had what we now call “selective eating syndrome.” For a whippet—especially one at the very bottom of the breed’s size range—maintaining weight is crucial. Fuega’s ideal weight hovers around 20 pounds, which sounds reasonable until you realize she treats those numbers like suggestions rather than requirements.

One day she’ll be a solid 20 pounds, looking perfectly healthy and proportioned. The next day? Down to 17 pounds because she’d decided that running was more important than eating, thank you very much. When you’re human-sized, a three-pound fluctuation might not seem like much. When your entire body weight is only 20 pounds, it’s the equivalent of a 150-pound person dropping to 127 pounds in a day.

We learned quickly that Fuega operates on the “eat to fuel the fun” principle. Food is just the means to the end, and the end is always, always running.

“Fuega Run Fast” Becomes a Daily Reality

Speaking of running, we discovered our tiny tornado has exactly two speeds: asleep and absolutely flying. There’s no middle ground, no casual stroll, no “let me think about this first.” When Fuega decides to move, physics becomes optional and depth perception is apparently just a suggestion.

The phrase “Fuega run fast” became part of our daily vocabulary, usually shouted in warning to anyone in her potential flight path. She gets so excited that she forgets little things like doorframes, furniture legs, and the basic laws of physics. The doggie door became her nemesis—or rather, she became its nemesis. The fact that our kid’s AmStaff also uses that door? Minor detail. Fuega would bolt through at full speed, sometimes with the much larger dog, creating what can only be described as a furry traffic jam.

Daily bumps and scrapes became as routine as morning coffee. Not from neglect or danger, but from pure, unbridled enthusiasm for life. Her worst punishment wasn’t punishment. It was forcing her to stay in one place because she had run into something and needed to rest a limb.

The Birth of a Con Artist

But here’s where Fuega’s intelligence really started to show. After a few weeks of genuine minor injuries from her “run first, look later” approach to life, we noticed something interesting. The limp didn’t always match the leg that had been bumped. Sometimes the limp appeared on days when nothing had happened at all.

One thing Fuega is, is SMART.

She’d figured out that a little paw held just barely off the ground meant immediate attention, concerned voices, and—most importantly—treats. Lots of treats. She’d developed what we now call her “strategic limp,” and she deployed it with the precision of a tiny, furry strategist.

Watch her in the yard when she thinks no one is looking? Perfect four-legged locomotion. The second she spots Rex coming outside with a treat? Instant, heartbreaking limp. The performance would make Broadway stars jealous.

Shop Dog Extraordinaire

Despite all the drama, or maybe because of it, Fuega quickly established herself as Rex’s shadow. She claimed the title of shop dog with the same determination she’d shown in choosing him that first day in Missouri. Where Rex goes, Fuega follows—limping or not, depending on her audience.

The workshop became her domain. She learned the sounds of different tools, the rhythm of Rex’s workday, and exactly which spots provided the best view of all the action while staying safely out of the way. For a sighthound bred to hunt and run, she adapted to shop life with surprising grace.

Well, grace might be overstating it. Let’s say she adapted with enthusiasm.

Bedtime Negotiations

Perhaps nowhere is Fuega’s personality more evident than in her sleeping arrangements. Remember how whippets need soft bedding and warmth? Fuega took this breed requirement and turned it into an art form.

She sleeps on Rex’s side of the bed. This is non-negotiable. But only if she has a blanket. Not just any blanket—her blanket, properly arranged to her specifications. The negotiation process can take several minutes of circling, pawing, and rearranging until everything meets her exacting standards.

For a dog who weighs 17-20 pounds depending on the week, she has managed to claim a disproportionate amount of bed real estate. Rex, being completely wrapped around her tiny paw, considers this perfectly reasonable.

The Tiny Tornado’s Kingdom

Looking back on those first few months, it’s clear that Fuega didn’t just join our family—she reorganized it around her needs, wants, and considerable personality. Every day brought new adventures, new creative interpretations of “good behavior,” and new evidence that size has absolutely nothing to do with impact.

She’d chosen Rex that day in Missouri, but it turns out she’d chosen all of us. Our routines, our hearts, and our understanding of what it means to share your life with a tiny tornado who runs on pure joy and strategic thinking.

Next time, we’ll tell you about Fuega’s biggest surprise yet—the day our little girl became a mama, and how that changed everything (and nothing) about our brilliant tiny tornado.

---

Thanks for following Fuega’s story with us. Whether you’re here for the woodworking or the whippet tales, we’re grateful you’re part of our Sarkanys Rising family!