Christmas and Other Smells

Well, by the level of chaos around here I can only assume it’s Christmas week. She’s totally behind and muttering to herself a lot.

I’m getting a lot of bones this week, and not just scavenged deer carcass ones either.  I guess it’s easier to pull a steak out of the freezer and hand it to Him for grilling than chop root vegetables.  He’s not looking for a green side any more than I am.

Mental note: Do not gnaw bones after 1am – She is seriously grumpy these days.

From what I can gather from sneaking around in the garage looking for cat food, She’s still got three bags of daffodils to plant and by the looks of things outside there are a hefty amount of pots she’s got to dig holes for and that’s not happening anytime soon.

We haven’t been outside together in at least two weeks since She came down with some weird old person ailment called ‘Shingles.’ She walks around saying ‘ouchie’ a lot. (‘Ouchie?’ Really – who says that?) and occasionally yelling something about not being fifty and what gives.

Whatever – as long as the bones keep coming, I’m good.

She’s decided that I can exercise myself, which means I’ve been seeing Molly a lot lately. So that’s pretty cool.  Last week I cornered a raccoon for her but when I looked back she’d run back home to get help from her humans.

Babe, I didn’t need any help, I was just showing you what I can do.

Pretty soon He shows up with a flashlight yelling my name and pretty pissed off. I laid off the raccoon and headed home pretending to be sorry, which he so fell for. He totally worries about me which is pretty cool cause He was always into Dobermans and had to be schooled by Her in the awesomeness that is a Jack Russell. Didn’t take long and now I. Own. Him.

So here we are. This Christmas week thing. They took me on the tree hunt this year because I guess they like to see me going nuts with all the smells in a new field.  I want to be calm and act like it’s not fazing me, but damn, you can’t fight who you are. And I am a Jack Russell.

The Girl took a bunch of videos of me and the Boy grumbled a lot as I guess he’s big enough now to cut and carry the tree while They all smile and take pictures.

Sucks to grow up.  I know, I’m five and a half now and I cannot get away with half the crud I used to.

 

By | 2018-02-28T17:28:04+00:00 December 18th, 2017|

About the Author:

Explorer. Varmint hunter. Dirt chaser. Dog.

5 Comments

  1. tonytomeo December 18, 2017 at 3:44 am - Reply

    Rhody says that Jack Russells are overrated.

    • Marianne Willburn December 18, 2017 at 1:09 pm - Reply

      Heresy! That sounds like cat-talk. 🙂

  2. bev December 19, 2017 at 12:55 am - Reply

    That was absolutely hilarious (I have two Chesapeakes). Keep it up!

  3. Sheryl December 19, 2017 at 2:47 am - Reply

    I’m in love with Mungo. So sorry to hear about your shingles! You’re too young! ?

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