Jack Russell Terror: Kokopelli

I didn't really know what we were getting into when we got Kokopelli, our Jack Russell Terrier, three years ago this coming October. I'd done my research. I knew that Jack Russells had lots of "personality" and were "feisty" and "energetic." What I didn't know was that these terms are euphemisms for "insane."

He was just weaned when we brought him home from a kennel in Rockvale, and he was filthy. We put him in our big garden tub and the water turned black. I had to refill the tub three times to get him clean.

Pelli seemed normal enough the first few weeks we had him. He was afraid of everything, including our Dachshund-Pomeranian mix, Chupacabra, who was three months older than him. (Chupa was hit by a car and killed last year.) But soon Pelli started to show his true colors. One morning I let the dogs out for their morning run. Our house was located on half an acre and was set well up from the street, which wasn't very busy. About five minutes later, I heard a lot of honking. I ran down the driveway, and there in the middle of the street was Pelli, all five pounds of him. He was facing down a short line of cars and trucks, barking. He thought he owned the street. After that, of course, we quit letting him outside without his leash.

From the time he was a very little puppy, he has loved Rob, his daddy. He demonstrates this love in kind of a strange way: every time he gets the chance (i.e., every time Rob sits or lies down), Pelli likes to nibble Rob's ears. He doesn't do this to anyone else. He also absolutely LOVES napping with Rob. Look at the couch any weekend afternoon, and you'll find Rob and his boy cuddled up, sound asleep.

Pelli isn't all bad. He's great with the kids. Violet is always trying to play with him, hug him, kiss him, dress him up. You know, typical three-year-old girl stuff. Pelli puts up with her as long as he can, then gives a warning growl, which she never heeds. After the warning growl, he "nips" her; that is, he puts his teeth on her arm without putting any pressure at all. The result is Violet thinks she's been bitten, although there is no mark and no pain and no tears, and she decides to find somebody else to play with.


But Pelli is, um, eccentric. About a year ago I bought a dog toy for Pelli at Wal-Mart. It was a squeaky hedgehog for about $3. He went CRAZY when I gave it to him. Within two weeks, he'd "killed" it. The stuffing and squeaker were all torn out, but he still played with the empty corpse. Now we have a supply of hedgehogs we keep in a bag on top of a kitchen counter. When he kills a hedgehog, we have backups. When he gets a new hedgehog, he spends all his time putting it beside somebody and watching it, waiting for that person to throw it. If ten minutes elapse and the hedgehog hasn't been thrown, he'll give a few sharp barks and settle back into watching. Or he'll find someone walking around, dropping the hedgehog at their feet hoping they'll kick it so he can run and get it. At night, he'll stay awake, putting the hedgehog by my feet, hoping I'll kick in my sleep so he can fetch. When he can't get anyone to play, he buries the hedgehog in a blanket and entertains himself, growling and trying to free it. It's not that nobody is willing to play with him. It's just that nobody wants to play with the hedgehog for 24 hours straight. Besides, after the first ten minutes, the hedgehog is slickery with Pelli saliva. We have to hide the hedgehog and put Pelli in his crate so he can get some sleep when the hedgehog is new.

The behaviors I've detailed so far are relatively harmless. Since we moved to Florida, Pelli has become a kind of neighborhood terror. The biggest problems happen when Pelli escapes the house without his leash, which happens much more frequently than I'd like, mainly because neighborhood kids haven't learned to shut the front door quickly after themselves when they come in and out. My kids know better: whenever they want to open the door, they holler, "Hold Pelli!!"

A few months ago, Pelli had a crush on Joy, a pretty golden retriever who lives down the street. Joy was in heat, and one day, Pelli got out of the house. Rob chased after him, but Pelli disappeared into the doggie door at Joy's house. The neighbors weren't home, and Pelli would not come back out. Luckily, Joy was crated, so Pelli couldn't get at her. Unluckily, Pelli marked his territory by peeing all around her crate. Rob apologized profusely to the neighbors, and took our carpet cleaner over to take care of Pelli's mess. Still, how embarassing! Pelli spent quite a lot of time in his own crate after that incident.

About a month ago, Pelli got out again. Rob and I were getting in the truck to run an errand when it happened, so we followed Pelli down the street in the truck. He stopped in a driveway, and Rob pulled the truck over, got out, and told Pelli, in his deepest, meanest voice, "I'm going to beat your ***!" Pelli promptly rolled over on his back, and Rob picked him up and started cooing at him, because Rob isn't really mean, and he loves his doggie boy. Rob and I hadn't noticed, but the garage door was open. When Rob picked Pelli up, the front door of the car that was in the garage opened, and a Hispanic lady stuck her head out of the car and called to Rob, "Oh, you're talking to the puppy! Oh, that is a good thing!" Rob and I were surprised, and after Rob apologized for startling the lady, we had a good laugh, but we're grateful that the lady didn't call the police when she thought Rob was after her. Yikes!