08/11/2026
Not so long ago, Little Guy was known as "Koby."
He came into rescue in 2021, a spicy little Chihuahua with a big attitude. (Weird.) He was very much a “handle with caution” kind of dog, and we learned in foster care that as long as you respected his wishes, he was mostly civil. He was not particularly interested in being your buddy – except on his terms, and he was mercurial – but he was mostly capable of coexisting with you if you understood his rules.
Not exactly the companion of your dreams (and we were super transparent about that), but he was only nine pounds and pretty cute, so he was adopted.
Six days later, he was returned. On his relinquishment form, Cathryn wrote "He does not have many social boundaries so he can come across as rude." We feel that was putting it nicely.
So Koby came back to the rescue and we doubled down on his plan: an experienced foster, work on his leash and house manners, more management.
He had a lot of interest; in the Covid era, small dogs were in high demand and Koby received 21 applications before he met Jeff four months later. Koby had made a lot of progress and we thought he was ready.
Jeff took Koby home and things were going well at first. After checking in during the first couple of months, we didn’t hear anything until a year later, when we got the email you never want to get.
By this point we were squarely in the aftermath of Covid, when dogs were no longer in high demand. It was the beginning of the hellscape that is the current climate of rescue, with more dogs in need than qualified homes, and this was not at all good news.
A deep dive with the adopter revealed that Jeff had relaxed all of the boundaries and training we had worked to install, and was basically tiptoeing around this little gremlin: “He can be really sweet, but if he doesn’t want to do something, he’ll bite you.”
At this point, it was clear Koby was not going to be successful (read: he was going to be euthanized) if he didn’t get some intensive training, and so we sent him to our friends Justin and Sara at Dog B Good for a formal training program. Any adopter would need to complete his take-home training and be committed to upholding it.
They taught him a communication system with clear markers, established boundaries, and, perhaps most importantly, fulfilled his drive. (Yes, little dogs have drive too.)
Somewhere along the way, Koby's mindset changed. He was still spicy. He was still very much Koby. But he started showing up as a dog who understood what was expected of him, had a healthy way to communicate, and an outlet for being the little powerhouse that he is.
Finding that level of understanding and commitment from an adopter is a tall order, but Justin and Sara were patient. After his training was concluded, Koby stayed on as a foster as one of the pack, assisting with client dogs and living in the house. Finally, after nine months, we received the unicorn application we had been waiting for: a dog trainer!
She was looking for a small dog to assist in her training business, wanted a dog with drive, and believed Koby would thrive with her pack. After several meetings, she took him home.
72 hours later, this trainer reached out and said “I need to return Koby. He’s not a good fit.” Upon questioning, she clarified, “It’s nothing he’s done, everything you disclosed has remained true and I haven’t given him a reason to escalate past the occasional growl.” But “in her experience,” she knew that he wasn’t the dog she wanted.
That was super disappointing. Koby had already shown with Justin and Sara that he was perfectly capable of being a cool and collected chihuahua. By this point, he just needed some time to settle in and learn the rules in a new environment. Nevertheless, he was coming back – for a third time – and at this point, it seemed clear that despite all of the efforts over more than two years, for all intents and purposes he was not adoptable.
And then we got the best possible outcome. Justin and Sara realized that Koby had become indispensable to their work and their family. This little guy was not going anywhere.
His name is Little Guy now. And he gets to live a very big life!
He shows up every day and gets to be exactly who he is: a tiny dog with a big personality and a solid understanding of how to live successfully in a world that is, frankly, built for dogs much bigger than he is.
Sometimes a dog doesn't need another chance to become someone else's idea of a good dog. They just need the right people to understand who they already are, and the skills and commitment to make that dog successful. Little Guy found those people. And we're pretty damn grateful he did.
