A Four-Legged Nut Job

I am someone who lives alone.  When I walk through the door at the end of a day, there is no one there to greet me or cook me dinner or draw me a bath.  Recently, I’ve been toying with the idea of getting a pet.  Unfortunately, my nickel-and-diming property management believes that an animal equates to an additional monthly pet rent.

Not a deposit, a pet rent.

Needless to say, I find this completely ridiculous and have shelved any attempts to cure my solitary home life.  In the meantime, I rely on weekly visits to the family dog for licks on the nose and cuddles on the couch.

Eight years ago, my dad brought home a puppy.  A teeny little blonde who radiated heat and smelled of the most intoxicating fragrance (we’ve since likened it to a combination of sweet corn and grape soda) came into our home and was to be returned to the woman who rescued him the next morning.  My family had gone through two years of hell with the world’s worst puppy, Killer, and were not about to sign up for another crazy pup.

Needless to say, we decided to keep him.

It wasn’t long before we all fell in love with this little mutt and welcomed him into our family with enthusiastically open arms and a very strange name: Jake the Worm.  We loved the name Jake, but I felt the dog needed a title and when his first trip to the vet resulted in a diagnosis of worms, well, you see where I went from there.  My dad took it a step further when I saw our new pet’s prescription bottle read “Jake the Worm Piranha.”  The puppy teeth were to blame for the last name addition.

We were delighted to know that Jake was not the horrible puppy that Killer was.  He potty-trained easily, did not destroy anything, and was a snuggler from early on.

As an adult, Jake is an asshole.  There’s just no other way to put it.

He terrorizes the neighborhood from his perch on the balcony, growling and barking whenever someone walks by.  The neighbors have taken to calling him both Cujo and The Growler.  While Jake loves Killer and any of the few people who knew him in the first six months of his life, he does not play well with others.

My sister, whose lifelong fear of dogs has not lessened as she’s gotten older, learned that Jake’s bite was indeed worse than his bark and had a lump on her leg for over a year after she met his acquaintance.  When my aunt came out from Louisiana to visit with my mom, it took three days of tiptoeing around each other for him to warm up to her.

Just a sleeping baby… until someone walks by.

And he just gets stranger as he gets older.

On windy days when he’s home alone, he has taken to digging on carpets and rugs until his little paws bleed and it looks like a murder scene.  He will leap off the couch from a dead sleep if he lets out an audible fart.  In the morning, you will find Jake growling at a bed, waiting for someone to pick him up even though he is perfectly capable of jumping on the bed himself.  Even after harassing you into giving him a treat, he will turn his nose up at the snack if it was not the particular one he wanted.  But don’t you dare take that original treat away; he’ll come back for it later.  If you leave your seat on the couch even for the shortest of times, he will have stolen your spot by the time you return.

Despite all of his neuroses (and the list is endless), Jake is still a part of the family and I love the little psycho.  My mother and I always comment that we are so happy we kept him.

How could anyone not love that little face?

If you’re sick and hugging the porcelain throne, he runs around frantically, unsure of what to do to help.  When you wake up in the middle of the night, you’ll find that Jake has become the little spoon to your big spoon, all snugged in as if that was the only place he was ever supposed to be.  He’s funny and he makes us laugh when he gives us a look that so clearly says, “My humans are so stupid!”  If you’re in the garage for only a few minutes, his entire body wags when you return with the sheer delight that you came back.  No human will ever greet you like that.

That would just be weird.

17 thoughts on “A Four-Legged Nut Job

  1. Simply Stephanie says:

    So I posted on Moo this morning and then read this (trying to catch up on what I missed while travelling). We are two peas in a pod. I adore Jake and laughed so hard at this! Dogs are the best! Minnie is the same way when she passes gas. She runs to anyone to save her. She also barks for certain treats and then grumbles at you (like “you idiot!” if it isn’t the right one! Aren’t they just adorable! 🙂 I could seriously have 10 dogs in be in heaven.

    • Jessica says:

      Welcome to the pod, fellow pea! 😉 I think what I love the most about dogs is their individual personalities. They all have their own unique quirks that just make you love them so much. I loved your Moo post and video! A great (and I do mean GREAT) book to read is I’m Not the Biggest Bitch in This Relationship edited by Wade Rouse. It is a collection of essays by dog owners and is laugh out loud hilarious for anyone who has ever owned a dog. The stories really make you wonder who’s crazier: us or them?

  2. hunting for bliss says:

    Puppies are the best! They can totally be a pain in the ass but at the end of the day, they are worth it. I’m bummed you can’t get one of your own. When I moved into my first apartment without roommates, I went out and bought a little buddy to keep me company 🙂 now he’s turning eight! Sigh…

  3. Truth and Cake says:

    Aww, I hope you can have a little asshole of your own one day 😉 I’m in the same boat–our building is completely pet-free. I visit my friends’ dogs and squeeze them a little too tightly, stare at them longingly, fatten them with treats. It’s the next best thing–and just think, no walks or poop scoops! It would be nice to come home to your very own puppy though. Jake is a cutey. Hard to believe he’s such a terror!

    • Jessica says:

      Thanks! He is adorable until he goes crazy and his hackles stand on end making him look like a very small stegosaurus. Sorry to hear about your pet-unfriendly building, Rian. You’re just going to have to train Grant to wag his booty when you get home. 😉

  4. Go Jules Go says:

    Ohhh This is GREAT! JM (Accidental Stepmom) and I were JUST describing our dogs as ‘assholes.’ Of course, we’re still totally obsessed with them. And I’m with Rian – I hope you get your own little asshole one day (pet rent? Guh!), HA!

    I LOVE all of the details you included about Jake, especially about the treats, heh

    • Jessica says:

      Thanks, Jules! The little butthead did the treat tirade just yesterday. I gave him not one, but two, Quackers (like those cheesy goldfish, but made for dogs shaped like ducks), but noooo, the little shit didn’t want the quackers. He wanted his cookies. As soon as the cookies were gone, back to the quackers he went with grateful kisses to me and that proud look on his face that said, “It’s about damn time you got it right!” With all his craziness, you’ve got to love that dog! I’m just glad he’s not the only asshole out there. 😉

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