My X had a horny tom cat that would travel for miles to get some.................................stuff. I once had to drive 12 miles to pick his ass up. He would usually be gone about a month and then come home looking like death warmed over. On his last foray he didn't quite make it home, he died in the neighbors backyard.
Well, at least that tom spread himself wide before he died.
We had a purebred Chihuahua that was the same, minus the month long absence. My Dad got him off an old lady for free, Jose Pedro VII, one guess as to his forefathers' names.
That was in Montgomery, AL, and the AP's chased him home several times. Mom would open the door and he'd shoot straight under the couch or a bed. AP's would knock and ask if we owned a chihuahua...Mom would lie, or maybe not, no one really
owns such an animal.
When Dad transferred from Maxwell AFB to Lackland AFB where he retired, of course Pedro came with us...he impregnanted lots of bitches in heat. We had irate parent parents show up, oh well. As my Dad would tell them, lock up your bitches if you don't want Pedro visiting.
Pedro died from a heart attack when he was 18; he'd been with us since he was 1 and I was 7. He was my dog inasmuch as he belonged to anyone in the family, given the choice he'd always come to me over the rest. God, but I loved that dog. I got a letter from Mom when I was stationed in Germany that not only had Pedro died, but my second father, SFC Longoria, who'd been my ROTC Rifle Team instructor through high school. Damn, I had to go to the bathroom and bawl like a baby and not a first lieutenant for an hour.
