When our daughter was seven years old, her birthday present was a puppy. That was when a sweet Shih Tzu came into our lives. Ariel, named after the Little Mermaid, was the perfect dog for a little girl. She was cuddly and loving. It was easy to housebreak her, too, because she did what we asked of her. And, she didn't shed! Of course, that was the tiny downside as well because she had to be groomed a lot to prevent matted fur. All-in-all, Ariel was almost too good to be true.
A few years later, being the person I am - which is to say, not one to be content with the status quo - I thought it would be grand to also get a puppy for our son. He had always wanted a Beagle, but all I could think of was the terrible howling sound they make, and I nixed that idea. If only...
Someone had told me Jack Russell Terriers were the best dogs. Eddie, from Frasier, was big then, so I figured this was meant to be. We piled into our minivan and set off in search of a JRT. We finally found a kennel somewhere in the country near Leesburg. The kennel owner was a burly man who barely spoke English. He took us on a tour of the place. His was an outdoor kennel. (First clue.) He raised racers. (Second clue.) Now, he did have a new litter of puppies, but they were weeks away from being able to leave their mother. We were determined to go home with a dog. (Third clue.)
As we were getting ready to leave, my husband noticed a young dog in a cage by himself. He and my son made eye contact, and we could hear angels singing. If we had been paying attention, the voices we were hearing were actually spirits saying, "NO! This is not a good idea - Om Mani Padme NO! (Fourth and loudest clue!)
The gentleman then proceeded to explain to us the story of "Lucky Stripe." His father was a former champion racer. Champion, as in he caught the fake rabbit in the track before anyone else did. Former, in that he ran so fast he couldn't stop and crashed into a bale of hay, knocking himself senseless. His racing days were over. Something about being cross eyed and only able to walk in circles. So, the mantle was being passed on to his heir - you guessed it - Lucky Stripe. Remember when I said the man barely spoke English? Well, I guess he was trying to say Strike, but it came out as Stripe. He told us he couldn't part with him because he was training him to be a great racer like his father someday. We had no choice but to sadly turn away - boy and dog reaching for each other in one last tearful goodbye.
Yeah. No sooner did we open the car doors when Mr. JRT came huffing up to us declaring that, for a few hundred more, he would part with his magical dog. ANYBODY ELSE would have said, "That's okay. We'll be back for a puppy in a few weeks." Not us. How could we deny boy and dog their chance to be united? Wallet came out, as did the puppy, and we piled into the car, one big happy family. Well, that was until Lucky got car sick all over his new master. He may have pooped, too. It's all a blur now...
Lucky was smart - selectively. Our son ran out of tricks to teach him. He could sit, stay, play dead, roll over, shake, jump through a hoop - you name it. And, like his father, he was fast. So fast, we couldn't catch him if he ran away. He could do everything but learn how to do his business outside. Mind you, I was a working mom back then - as in trying to hold down a full time job outside the home in addition to all of the full time stuff involving running a household - washing, cleaning, cooking, shopping, etc. I was not in the mood to clean up after a dog.
And we tried everything. Somebody told us to cage him cause that would make him feel secure and less likely to poop and pee inside. It had the opposite effect. Not only did he do his thing in the kennel, he seemed to be okay covering himself in it. Dog and kennel had to be bathed then. I was rapidly losing my mind.
For years we had to put up with this. On one hand, he was sharp and fiercely loyal to our son. On the other, he had learned as a caged, outdoor puppy, to go wherever he wanted. Never underestimate the early experiences of a dog or cat. While cats seem to be able to connect new dots, dogs seem to stay fixated on the old ones. We've learned a lot over the years, mainly from our mistakes. Whether you're getting a pet from a breeder or rescuing one, try to learn as much as you can about their back story. If nothing else, at least you'll be prepared.
Right before our son was getting ready to leave for college, the movie, "My Dog Skip," came out. It was about a JRT and his boy, so my husband and I thought it would be fun to see it with our son. Oh, Lord. That movie was such a tear jerker, the three of us were destroyed. We couldn't leave the theater. The lights came up, and the ushers were cleaning up, but we couldn't move. We just sat there like zombies. I'm pretty sure management had to escort us out. No words were spoken on the car ride home.
Like the dog in the movie, when our son left for college, Lucky would stay in our son's room, waiting for him. We never had to tell him when our son was coming home for a visit - he knew - long before he got here. Eventually our son got an apartment and took Lucky with him. I'll never forget the day I got the call from a devastated kid telling me that Lucky had gotten loose trying to find him, and was hit by a car. He brought Lucky home to be buried under the window of his boyhood bedroom.
We loved Lucky, but vowed to never, ever get another Jack Russell. Imagine our surprise when, years later, our daughter brought home a puppy she thought was a Chihuahua. It turned out to be a Chihuahua/JRT!!! We had another freaking JRT! I will tell the tale of Sevi at a later date. It's a good one...
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