During a journey to the Land of Pike, Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, re-discovered himself. Life in the city had rendered him into a position where he had forgot a very important fact. He had forgot he was a dog and so had his owners.
Runtly re-united with his mother. She is never as elated to see him and he is her, but she does tolerate him to the best of her ability. He met his old buddy Max....actually, since Max is a male dog too, the term 'buddy' is probably not correct, it should be jousting partner....some things in the male kingdom never change. Max was just a puppy the first time he and Runtly met. Even though at the puppy stage, Max, a German Shepherd, was bigger than Runtly, the Runtmiester showed him who was the boss.
I really did not think it was a good idea for Runtly and Max to meet again. Max was no longer a half grown pup. He had expanded into a dog about the size of a small pony. He was also death on four paws to chickens, squirrels and most anything that moved. I recalled the words of my good neighbor who operates a dog day care...."you have to let them meet and do their own thing. As long as one does not clamp onto the other, they will set their own limits." He was right. I had been terrified of letting Runtly get too close to his dogs, Biggie and Claire. They are bulladors, a cross between a bull dog and a labrador and they look like war tanks as they come galloping across the lawn. This neighbor told me that most of Runtly's actions were because of my reaction to the situation. When I finally relented and stood back, sure that my precious Runt would be nothing but shredded strips of white, what I witnessed was an eye opener. Runtly met Biggie and Claire with all the gusto a small dog can muster. Every hair was standing at attention, he showed his teeth and did his best snarl. When Biggie and Claire understood he did not want to play, they simply turned around and walked off. Even though I had seen this with my own eyes, I was not convinced the same would happen when meeting Max.
What did happen was beyond funny. Runtly did his, by now famous, meet and greet and Max believed every snarl of it. Each time Max would get too close, Runtly would raise the corner of his lip, just enough to show some teeth and Max would give him a wide berth.
Runtly ran in the open fields and vast lawns of country homes. He discovered a patch of tall grass and popped up every ten feet or so to check his location. He rolled in the most delightful stuff that looked like black tar, although I suspected it had something to do with a raccoon and he was most disappointed to have it washed off. Luckily for all concerned, he was inside the house, looking out the large picture window, when the deer walked down the road. Had he been outside, he may have still been running. He ran more in 11 days than he had in the last 11 months and lost one pound in the process.
Yes, Runtly discovered his doggie origins and we were reminded that even though he might be a "fur baby", he's still a dog and always will be.
I watch him now, back in the city, on the end of a leash. It's molting season for the geese. Runtly picks up a large wing feather and proceeds to prance gaily ahead of me. All four feet are flailing out to the sides as he packs his trophy for all to see. It really does not matter to him where his location might be, he is doing his happy dance. There may be a lot to learn from an ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier.
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