(the following is an essay written by Gage Wren about our little friend)
I feel a rush of air fly past my feet. I look down just in time to catch a glance of a
small flash of white zooming past me. The small mass of energy halts briefly to pound
his small, clawed paws on the white door. This little, yet masculine, being is my Jack-
Russell Terrier.
This hunter of, specifically, rodents runs and sniffs through my backyard with
intent in his mind and in his eyes. Anything that creeps may be a victim to his small jaw,
full of razor like teeth. Often I have found dead ferrets and frogs on our back porch. The
only thing that ceases this dog’s natural instinct to attack are humans. His behavior
around them greatly contrasts with that of animals. He has been bred to serve his
master in the hunt with ferocious power. Yet, he is also trained to treat his master with
hospitality and warmth rather than hostility. Although his size make him appear as weak,
his long hours scavenging through the trees and bushes creates lean muscle throughout him that is surprisingly powerful. Although he is being gentle, when he jumps on his hind legs to place his front two paws on you, you truly feel the power hidden in his compact body.
When he is not scouting his territory for a something to kill, he may be found lounging around in, sometimes, very peculiar places of our house. Whether it be in his small bed-which he has teared to pieces due to boredom-or on a chair in a dark room or on a pile of recently cleaned clothes. He spends his time resting either from his work or to prepare himself for the work ahead. His short hair is like that of a piece of paper: coarse when examined diligently, yet smooth when felt as a whole. One strand of his fur is thick and almost sharp. Many of these stands detach themselves from his body and
fall on either the ground or whatever he is near. His back often needs scratching from all
these stray hairs. He tends to lie on his back and twist back in forth, as if he’s break
dancing, to scratch his back. When he opens his mouth to breath, he appears to be
smiling. His “grin” reaches back to his ears and he seems a happy dog. Though, this
grin of his quickly disappears when a sound is made by any creature lurking close to
him or his territory. After that, he returns to his concentrated purpose to exterminate
whatever gets in his way (as long as it isn’t a person).
While he is full of energy and hastiness, he is getting old and more weary.
Although, I believe he will be using the last of his energy in his life to chase a squirrel or
sniff in the ground for a mole. Or even trying to dig under our fence to find new
adventures, as he often does. And one day, he will be part of the ground that he roams
and battles upon.
