Chihuahuas like nothing better than to clamber up on you to demand cuddles and baby talk.
Sometimes I waltz around my bedroom with Mort in my arms, singing into his furry face, breaking only to kiss his teeny nose.
Other days my patience wears slightly thin.
Mort happily goes outside to the toilet first thing.
Then 10 minutes later, he'll run up two flights of stairs to my bedroom and crap in the middle of the carpet.
It's like he sees it as a challenge.
Leave the bathroom door open for five minutes and there's a poop on the bathmat. Guaranteed.
Chihuahuas are seemingly born without the fear gene.
Mine will race up to other dogs of any size and bounce around in an attempt to get them to play.
They make fantastic guard dogs – their ridiculous bat ears hear everything.
Contrary to popular opinion, chihuahuas are 'proper' dogs – just in miniature.
Even young ones are perfectly capable of walking fairly long distances, so long as you're careful to keep them fit and not strain baby bones.
Mort will bounce around the local fields for an hour and still have energy for a cat chase round the living room when we get home.
Chihuahuas are notorious for their burrowing habits.
New owners learn very quickly to pat down any soft furnishings before sitting, for fear of squishing a sleeping idiot.
Taking a Chihuahua into your home might make you want to create a Facebook page or flood Instagram with puppy pics. While everyone might not be as enthralled by the cuteness as you are, they're probably too polite to tell you that it can be irritating.
There is endless potential for choking with a tiny hound.
Every chihuahua owner has, at some point, pondered how they would perform the Heimlich manoeuvre on such a minuscule creature.
It takes a man who's very confident in his own sexuality to walk a tiny dog, which is also probably wearing a ridiculous jumper.
If your man isn't keen, change him. The dog stays.
Because they know they're worth it.
