Pig

Dear all,

I haven’t told you about my Mothers Day gift, Pig.  Pig is a Jack Russell Terrier with the looks and markings of a beagle so he is a cuter than most.  He has a good temperament for a Jack Russell, which isn’t saying much since they are a notoriously difficult breed.  Pig is an English hunting dog through and through, which I hope sends images of red coats and horses into your head, however briefly. Jack Russells are working dogs, though, bred to hunt rats, not foxes. During our Summer of the Rat, Pig remains blissfully unaware.  Perhaps he is working on his upward social mobility (so difficult in England), aspiring to become a setter or maybe a retriever.  Once R had to throw a dog treat next to a rat so that Pig would take notice of it (then, true to roots, the dog went crazy). 

Pig came to live with us in March (England’s ‘Mothering Day’ weekend).  He settled in well at first, however, the more comfortable he became, the more he began to act up by way of marking everything in our house.  I had my initial pang of buyer’s remorse when he peed the FIRST time on top of our kitchen table.  No matter how hard I tried, I no longer could see the value in this dog.  And while I am the first to admit I’ve had a bit of buyer’s remorse with every dog (and child for that matter-still do, occasionally), the heinousness of this particular incident disturbed me deeply.  The situation did not improve no matter how much I roared at J (The dog was HIS idea, see how that works?).  And so it went until we had him fixed (the dog, not J) which is not a standard procedure in this country.  ‘Let this be a lesson to you boys,’ I wagged my finger, ‘Do you see how I deal with young males who cross me?  I’d keep your room clean, if I were you.  And do some homework, while you’re at it.’

We introduced the cage after Pig jumped up on the dining room table while I was gone and ate/ground three chocolate bars (wrapped and in a grocery bag) into the carpet. I am aware how dangerous chocolate is to dogs.  I was not concerned.  I was PRAYING for a slow doggy death by chocolate. 

Now that he has stopped peeing all over the house and is no longer jumping on tables, I have fallen in love with him again. Pig is now nearly perfect except for the bit about wanting to attack every animal he sees.  Still working on that.

Pig is far from the big, fluffy dogs we usually go for but we are discovering that smart dogs are just as challenging as dumb dogs.  No one would deny that Barley, as loveable as she was, was the world’s dumbest dog.  With a smile and grateful heart, she happily lived at the bottom of our pack.  Pig needs constant daily reminders of his place.  Still, I see the advantages of small and shorthaired Pig: he is portable, doesn’t slobber, doesn’t barf in the back seat and is nearly bullet proof. 

We failed to enquire about life expectancy when we adopted Pig.  A mistake.  Jack Russells can live for more than TWENTY YEARS, which SO would have been a deal breaker. J will be pushing 70, kids long gone and we will still have this dog to walk.  J couldn’t be more thrilled.  A dog is for life, you know, not just for Christmas 

With love from England,

T-Ann