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By Jack the Bichon, Guest Writer
My parents, Chris and Lindsey, got married in June and moved into their house in July. Instantly, my mom was “doggedly” determined to find a bichon boy. Both of my parents are allergic to dogs and my dad had never known there were hypoallergenic dogs. But in the first grade, when Mom asked for a pet, her parents got her a bichon: King Cloud Puffenstuff Goodman. Mom was raised with her bichon as her brother. She knew that when she had a home of her own, she would get a bichon boy.
Mom contacted a bichon rescue, aptly named “Small Paws.” The rescue had a long application followed by an interview. My parents didn’t even get advanced to the interview! It was probably because their schedules were busy and some of the dogs had medical conditions that took extra time. But I’m glad they didn’t stop there.
Mom spent all fall trying to get a rescue bichon and then spent the early winter looking at breeders. She was playing with the Toledo Symphony where there were two breeders. Dad came along to check them out. They were on the way to the first breeder and there was a commercial where a couple was trying to be cool and not get sucked into buying a car. They asked each other, “What’s running through your veins? Ice water!” Mom and Dad were repeating that to themselves as they got to the first breeder. “What’s running through your veins? Ice water!” And then they walked in and saw a litter of tiny puppies and they were screwed.
I made sure they didn’t make it to the second breeder. I had to get their attention, so I may have thrown myself on them a bit. They later said that I was “running around like a nutcase.” I even tried running up the stairs – imagine me, a five or six-week-old puppy, running up and down the stairs! Once they brought me home, I wouldn’t go on stairs at all. I much preferred for my parents to carry me up and down. This lasted for a couple months until they put treats on each little step to coax me up. I took my time “learning” how to climb stairs and that worked out pretty well for me.
The breeder and I wanted them to take me home the day we met, but Dad’s band was playing the Rose Parade and Mom was working for his band. They didn’t want to adopt me and then leave me home alone for a week. When they left, I ran to the storm door and watched them leave wearing my saddest look with my dainty paws against the glass. There was a Steelers poster behind me and they had mentioned they were fans. I framed my face right over the Steelers’ logo and I think they took that as a sign.
They considered naming me Steeler but then Dad came up with Jack. JD Bichons was my breeder so everyone in my family had a name that started with JD: JD Top Dog, JD Top Banana, JD Vanilla Shake. So they called me JD Top Shelf – Jack for short. Although neither of them liked Jack Daniels! When I met my mom’s mom, she asked, “Why are you naming the dog after your grandfather?” Mom’s grandfather’s name was John and she didn’t know that friends called him Jack. My parents think I’m her grandfather reincarnated.
They were so nervous when they brought me home. Mom had been very young when she had Cloud so she hadn’t trained a dog. They were first time parents. On the car trip home, I was in crate, so I whined and whined until they stopped and took me outside. It was January and it was cold! I stood there crying and shaking until Mom held me on her lap the rest of the trip. They didn’t know it yet, but they were being trained.
Speaking of training, Mom had read a lot of books. She had read that you were supposed to put down food and make me wait to eat until she said, “Go.” Well, that wasn’t going to happen. The shaking and whining had worked so well the first time that I tried it again. No more waiting for food and I got to eat whatever I wanted – unless of course I was allergic to it.
They were also going to train me to sleep in a crate instead of in their bed. They to put a clock in the crate to sound like a heartbeat. But I cried all night so they couldn’t sleep. The second night they put me in bed with them. I curled up under the covers with my head on the pillow in my favorite snuggling position: Little Spoon. And that’s how we slept for the next eighteen years.
I was in love with them and they were in love with me. When they came home, I would throw myself on them and knock them flat on the floor. I liked to walk on their faces and lick their ears and noses and eyeballs. I heard them cry, “Oh my God, I’m being attacked by something that’s four pounds!” I may have been small, but I knew who was boss.
As puppies, bichons only have an undercoat – a frizzy, flyaway, soft coat. My fur was the softest. The breeder had given me a bath when we I met my parents and again when I came home. My parents had no idea how hard that could be. Later, they said it was like cage fighting. Dad had to put on swim trunks and get in the bath with me!
Their friends Jeana and Jess got me these little toy political figures: George W. Bush, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Hillary Clinton. I was only four pounds, but I could kill those politicians! I bit all the limbs off Arnold. Dad sewed the holes shut and I had just Arnold’s body to play with. Hillary, though, I always chewed her with great respect. I am a reincarnated liberal, after all.
Later, I stopped doing dog things like toys and chewing. It was more fun to do people things. I was really a person shaped like a dog. When we went to the park, I checked out the dogs and then hung with my people. I was a dude who lived in the house, who looked a lot like a dog.
My parents said that I made our family complete. They were not just a couple; we were a family. When they adopted me, they thought they were adopting a dog. They didn’t know they were adopting a family member. They were adopting their son. And I was adopting my parents.
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