I Created a Prima Dona

by Brenda J. Christie

Prince Jakk

I'm sure a lot of parents can associate with that statement - "I Created A Prima Dona."  This is the child that gets in the middle of a supermarket or better yet, at the check out counter and screams as if someone is killing it.  Or, the child that gets in a crowded subway car and has a temper tantrum.  It's always the parent's fault.  And yes, if you created the Prima Dona, it is your fault.

Jakk, my 15 year old Parsons' Jakk Russell, is a Prima Dona, and I am his creator.  At 12 pounds, he really can't afford not to eat, but every meal is a battle.  Usually one which he just walks away from choosing to lay guilt at my feet.  The battle usually ends, half an hour later, when I give him left over barbecued ribs, or some chicken he hasn't tried yet (anyone say "Chicken Piccata)"  Or fish, or meatloaf, mash potatoes, rice with gravy.  I think you get the picture.

My dogs get fed twice a day, morning and evening.  One morning, Jakk was particularly difficult.  I made him 3 different dishes: (1) one flavor of his grain-free holistic canned dog food; (2) a different flavor of his grain-free holistic canned dog food and (3) a sunny-side up egg over his grain-free holistic dry food.  Prima Dona would have none of it.  I finally gave up and went to work.

Then there is the matter of getting his paws wet.  It seems like Jakk Russells have a particular obsession with their paws. First of all you can't touch them.  Second of all, their paws can't touch the ground, at least not Jakk's.  So, acknowledging this peculiarity, I went in pursuit of doggy boots.  The first pair was too small: the second larger pair he didn't like, the third pair of a different style, I only got 1 paw into 1 boot.  So I ordered a pair of boots from Alaska from the company that makes boots for the dogs that run in the Iditarod.  I thought if I told Jakk he was wearing "Big Dog" boots (yes, he has a Napoleon Complex) and that these $45 boots were special, he would wear them.  And it worked, somewhat.

We got out of the house, walked in the snow, and then he fell over sideways into the snow.  And just laid there, freezing.  That's when I got to understand, from his perspective, that my responsibilities were not limited to preparing something he would eat, taking him to the vet when he felt like it, protecting him from Frankie, his wanna be killer, but it was also my responsibility to carry him to a spot outside where he would relieve himself, and then carry him around so he could take in the fresh air and carry him home.  And if I didn't like carrying him, then we should take the car somewhere where he could relieve himself, carry him around so he could take in the fresh air and then drive him home.

I have to believe Jakk was an Egyptian Prince or Princess in another life -- the kind that rode around in a carrying-chair, used to being carried and used to having slaves.

Such is the Prima Dona I created.

Tell us your story.  What Prima Dona did you create?  While you think about it, Jakk is at the top of the stairs calling me to put him to bed, another of my responsibilities...

Jakk's Christmas Wish List

by Brenda J. Christmas

Jakk's Christmas Wish List included this multi-use tool.

Maybe next year...

Does Sibling Rivalry Exist Among Dogs?

by Brenda J. Christie

Had to finally put the sentry (Jakk) upstairs to be able to write this post.  He just could not be happy sitting in a nice Sunday sun, listening to the birds chirp, and watching the squirrels dig up the rest of my garden.  Back and forth, and back and forth.

So I put him upstairs with his nemesis, Frankie.  Frankie is a 30 pound African Hunting Dog/Jack Russell mix.  And, his mission in life is to get Jakk.  His intentions used to be more overt, but he's gotten a little more sneaky with age.

When he was younger, I used to watch him watch Jakk while Jakk, sitting atop a living room chair, looked at himself in the mirror -- I did say he was a prima donna, didn't I?  As there was nothing on the other side of the chair but open space, it must have been quite a temptation to shoot up on the chair and knock Jakk over.  He would fall like Qbert.

Who Is Jakk?

by Brenda J. Christie

Jakk is a 15-year old, 12 pound Jakk Russell terrier who always seems to think someone is out to get him.  He's a little old now, but for the longest time he used to think he was Mighty Dog.

Jakk is everything a terrier should be:  temperamental, high energy, unpredictable, stubborn.  He is also self-indulgent, but I'm probably more responsible for his having that trait than he is since I've had him since he was a few months old.  So is there really anyone else to blame for his behavior?  He also doesn't play well with other dogs.  No, Top Dog does not do that.

Jakk was given to me by one of the guys on my staff after my last miscarriage at the age of 40.  And I still don't have any kids, so you can imagine the special place this dog has in my heart.  I am his guardian angel and his protector.  He can do no wrong.  And it's everybody elses (i.e., my husband's) fault.  So yes, I'm probably the one who helped him into who he is today.  But at the end of the day, he makes me laugh, so it's okay.

I'm always talking about Jakk to my friends and they say, you should write a book and maybe one day I will, but for now, blogging is just fine.

Tonight, after being sleep deprived for 5 nights, I'm sleeping in the basement.  Alone.  One of those 5 nights, Jakk woke me up 3 times.  First he wanted water, then he wanted to go out and the third time, he wanted an eye bath, and yes, I accommodated him all 3 times, but in all honesty, I was thinking about giving him a tranquilizer.  He, on the other hand, will sleep until noon or later if you don't wake him up.  But some of us working stiffs have to get up at the crack of dawn.  So, sleep is a commodity.

Last night he woke me up and I put him out of the room only to hear his nails clicking on the hardwood floors as he walked back and forth like a sentry on duty.  I could hear him through my foam ear plugs, back and forth and back and forth until I finally got up and let him in.  I think I finally fell back asleep at 4 am.  The alarm went off at 5 and I got up and Jakk kept sleeping. Whadda life, as they say in New York.

So over the next few posts, I'll share with you some of the things that make Jakk a prima donna dog and some of our adventures.  For now, I'm going to hit the sack.  Although I'm down in the basement, I'm sure Jakk will find a way to wake me up, even from upstairs.

B