My princess by the sea

Dear Sasha,

A few months ago, I left a hot bay that often looked like chocolate milk and smelt like dead birds in which I had called my home for four long years. Although close to my homeland of Chihuahua, not nearly close enough. And too many English speaking fools, not enough packs of Chihuahua's running wild in the hills like in the old days when 30 of us would take down a 39 lb Chupacabra with no hesitation.  I never did prefer the artery clogging Tex-Mex over the authentic food of my homeland.  Anyway, you were part of my life for a year and a half of those four arduous years in the most important ways.
 Although you were of different kind and not the preferable kind, you were the peanut butter chewy of my eye. Long, gray, fur, you never did like doing your hair. You walked around the flat that we lived in with a confidence I could not ignore.  Although you would never give me the time of day, I am sure I caught your attention. Many a night while licking my paws clean I noticed you around the corner watching me with clear intent, wondering. Our interactions were limited, but my love for you grew, as it grew for you unruly owner, who often left tidbits such as cranberry supplements out for me to test.
(Side note, I did test those out, My owner was not happy with the results, although I was. I was meaning to go to the doctor for my first colonoscopy, but I did not feel the need to after those pills, to this I owe you. Who cares if the results was a dark brown liquid excrement on the white carpeting of My Master's floor? I heard you got the deposit back.)
We left that hot day in June for Chicago. I barely even got to say goodbye. I know you are out there, your beauty and indifference shining a light on someone else's soul. I know that many men have been through your apartment, and I could never expect to have a real chance with you, but I want you to know that my tiny little heart beats a trillion beats a second when I think of your sharp intellect, and your sharp tongue.