Written by Molly Jack Russell
Our human sister Clare has asked us, Teddy and Molly, to write a guest article for her blog. We yapped “Yes!” to the challenge. Neither of us know what a blog is, or an article, but we are expecting a treat in return. Maybe a marrowbone?
Anyway, we are two Jack Russells, the best dog in the world of course. We live with Clare’s parents who claim to be our pack leaders. At least that’s what they say. My big brother Ted says he’s pack leader although he’s still working on a plan to oust Human Mum (aka Top Dog) out of this current position. When she gets up off her armchair, Ted will jump on it quick to claim it as his. But he will always end up having to share it with her.
“Co-leading,” he explains to me, as he snuggles next to Human Mum.
“Crawler,” I mutter, before trying to jump up and sit next to the two of them.
I asked Ted what we should write about for this article and he laughed and said we should write about the most interesting subject in the world.
“What’s that Ted?” I asked, thinking tasty treats was the answer.
He replied, “No, silly! Me, of course!”
So I’ve compromised and will write about the two of us.
As I’ve said, we are Jack Russells, pedigree of course (no papers but our parents were full bred). We are often told that, when we were puppies, we lived with a cat. I do not recall this but I do know that cats are very wicked creatures and we should shout at them if we see them. I look for them under hedges and atop fences.
“Clear off,” I shout, if I see any.
Ted swears, “**** **** off!”
My big brother can swear like a trooper.
We are told off for shouting at these villains but I think humans are naive about cats. By the time they realise the truth it will be too late and cats will have achieved their goal – world domination.
We arrived at our human family when we were about eight weeks. Ted was the biggest in our litter and I the smallest. When we argue, Ted sometimes calls me a runt. He can be a bully at times but I always stand up to him. My mother told me not to take any nonsense from anyone. Just because I’m small they may take advantage of me. I’ve always remembered this and will fight back if need be. Clare calls this ‘little dog syndrome’ but my mother is right, we little dogs need to stand up for ourselves.
I don’t recall my early days too well. Ted says I slept a lot those first few days of arriving at our new home. He was wide awake, he says. He told me he was hoping he would be able to snatch my dinner from me, like the way he used to try and push in front of me and our siblings when we were suckling mother. But our human parents never allowed him. And I didn’t too!
We used to sleep in a dog bed in the kitchen but worked our way up to the human settee. We had so much fun as pups! We used to hide and run under the settee and armchair until the day Ted got too fat (“tall”, corrects Ted) and couldn’t get through. Nibbling the furniture was great fun but we were told off for that, and we used to try and nibble feet too. Another no, no – but what larks we had!
We like visiting Clare’s house, not least because she gives us a marrowbone. She has two strange rat-like creatures with no tails. Fatter than rats though. They have a lot of delicious chocolate drops which fall onto the floor. I enjoy clearing these up. I get told off for this though.
“Disgusting” say the humans. But they eat chocolate, why can’t I?
Because of our thin hair, we wear dog coats on winter evenings when it gets cold. They are rather fashionable. Clare calls them ‘pyjamas’ which they are, in a way. We wear them to sleep in after all. Speaking of sleep, it’s time for bed.
“What do you think of the article?” I ask Ted. He says more should have been written about him and next time he’ll write the story.
“Goodnight Ted,” I bark to Ted before sleep. “‘Night Molly,” he replies, before giving me a goodnight kiss on my head. It’s true, we get on each other’s nerves but despite that, we are family and love each other too.