So on Saturday, Eric and the girls went to get him and when Tigger saw Eric, he wriggled himself out of the arms of the Humane Society worker and into Eric's arms. It makes me laugh, really, to see Eric care so much about this 6-pound chihuahua.
And I know, the problem isn't over--BUT we have a plan. Since Saturday, it's working. We keep Tigger in his kennel and take him outside (outside, not on pads inside the house as he was trained to do for seven years) to go do his thing. Then we give him a treat if he goes and then put him back in the kennel. He gets to sleep in Bianca's room at night as usual. He seems like a changed dog. Not an accident in the house yet. Maybe the Humane Society stay scared the crap out of him and he realized what he had (are dogs capable of this type of cognitive function?). I like to believe he's finally warm and comfortable again and he's going to be the dog he should be. So far, so good. And now I have a safety net: If it doesn't work out, I can ship him off to grandma's.