Alright, I have to tell you guys about Jake. Jake is an absolute sweetheart and the love of my life;
He's an Australian Cattle Dog or what's commonly known in the U.S. as a Red Heeler, and originally NOT my first choice as a pet. I had always been told that ACDs were high energy dogs that need a job. In the past I had limited contact with them, but the two I did were terribly hyperactive, to the point that within the humane society situation I dealt with them in they would develop the spins if kept in a kennel too long. The spins are when a dog spins in place where a normal dog would stand still for anyone who doesn't know. Our previous neighbors also had three Blue Heelers/ACDs and they were all aggressive to varying degrees. So, to say that I was initially leery about Jake is an understatement.
Now for the setup. The hubby and I were out looking at properties in the middle of Nowhere, Arkansas. We had seen several that day and were on our way home when we came upon line of cars at a stop sign guarding the T section between a busy highway and even busier highway. As a vehicle approached said stop sign, this dog would go up to the car, circle it, sniff all four tires, look under it, look in the windows and then back off a little when it took off. Each car or truck was given the same thorough once over by this ad hoc vehicle inspector, and of course my husband's truck is treated similarly. When we leave the stop sign though, unlike any of the other cars the ACD follows us. By the time we get to speed on the busier highway he's doing a flat out run. Now, my hubby and I are both dog people. Like Angel, we appreciate cats but love dogs, and just leaving this guy running down the busier highway is NOT an option, so we pull over. Here comes the dog, running at top speed to catch up, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, big grin on his face.
He greets us, little stump of a tail wagging so fast it's taking his .... with it, happy as can be until he notices the cattle wandering up to the fence that we had pulled up next to.
Keep in mind, ACDs were initially bred in Australia to herd cattle long distances. It's been in their blood since the 19th century. Jake obviously hasn't been informed of this though. As the cattle start advancing on the fence, Jake's hackles rise and he starts growling at the cows while backing away. Meanwhile, I'm trying really hard not to start laughing uncontrollably. You see, our oldest dog, the one we would soon lose to cancer, was a stray Golden Retriever we had adopted and who froze up whenever a retrievable item was placed in her mouth. So much so that I had taken to calling her our Golden Non-Retriever years before. Now we had found an Australian Cattle Dog that hated cattle!
Sooo, to save the poor thing from the big bad cows, I opened the truck door and told him to get in, which he was more than happy to comply with.
To make a long story somewhat shorter, we spent a month trying to find Jake's original owners to no avail. We had three dogs at the time we found him, and I swore that if we didn't find someone he was going to a rescue. He, however, stole my heart rather quickly. He wasn't aggressive in any way as long as you weren't a cow,
was well behaved, and believed that he was the size of a chihuahua. In fact, he still does. He's peed in my house exactly once, but I can't even blame him for that. You see, I had ordered my hubby a set of tires for his truck online, and they were sitting in the living room waiting for him to make an installation appointment. Jake took one look at them and hiked his leg. I made that noise, the nasal yet throaty "Naaaah" that stops every pet I've ever owned right in their tracks, and Jake headed shamefaced to the back door to be let out.
He's also a clean dog. When my husband's cousin came for a visit, Jake stole his toothbrush from his bag and walked through the house with the head in his mouth, just like a teenage guy would, until I figured out what he had and took it from him.
Needless to say, Jake is still with us. He's my velcro dog as ACDs are want to be, loves rubber balls/chew toys, (he destroys anything else) curling up in your lap, and is a certified couch potato. So much for being your typical ACD. Oh, and by the way, the dog still has an odd fascination with vehicles. Taking him on walks on a busy street is rather interesting since he's always wanting to stop and check out every car or truck that he comes to. I'd get him a job at a vehicle inspection station if Arkansas hadn't gotten rid of the inspection requirement for tags.
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