We have had a canine guest staying with us, a sweet little Jack Russel Terrier, an alpha female. She returned home November 25, 2016 and I am sorry to say there were no merry romps between her and Ty. There was only a barest of interaction–in the kitchen cave, of course– when she entered to investigate. He tolerated her like he tolerates everything else in life.
She, on the other paw, bullied him. She stole his toys and bones, taking them to the den where she set up temporary camp. She boldly approached him and stole the goodies from right beside him. He watched, mildly interested, and never even offering to curl a lip. Sweet to the point of pushover. Not even a hint of alarm that his belongings were disappearing.
When it was time to go outside, I’d leash one, then the other. Regardless who I leashed first, she turned snapping teeth at him, warning him to step away from the door. She was to exit first! He politely backed aside.
Finally, after she had made quite a stash of stolen contraband in the den, Ty happened past. He stood and glanced into the room, concerned his belongings were in there, but not concerned enough to mount any sort of rescue. I gave him back the bones, and let her keep the toys. The bones were more valued anyway.
She took the bones back within half an hour. Then the game was on. She even tried stealing treats out of his food dish! Although she seldom wanted any of her own treats that mama had provided. Ty, sweet, dear soul, even allowed her to take his treats from his dish. Pushover to pitiful.
Then, as suddenly as she blew into our lives, her mama returned for her. Toys and bones were returned and the house was set to rights. Ty barely blinked an eye. I honestly believe I can have a herd of buffalo thunder through the house and doubt he would do much beyond look up at best.
November 26, 2016, Saturday. Ty and I went to the grand opening of a new Pets Mart near us. We were one of the early birds, something like number four in line. At first he was nervous. It was cool and rainy, and lots of people and dogs soon joined us in line. He stood, tail tucked, pacing, and checking in with me frequently. Barking dogs bothered him. It was sort of crazy and certainly out of his comfort zone.
Then we went inside. It was chaos! Madness! Claustrophobic. People, kids, dogs, shopping carts, and displays everywhere. Nowhere to walk. Crowded. Stuffy. Not a place he would excel in. Even I questioned the sanity of my early bird decision.
Ty, wonder of wonders, Ty handled it well. Better than I actually. I got a cart and piled goodies into it, including a two and half-foot beef bone for Ty. We covered almost every foot of that store as I crossed things off my list, and he stayed beside the cart every step. The longer we were there, the more frazzled my patience got, but the more he accepted the chaos. He never pulled or bolted a once. He stayed beside me and checked out the endless action.
Once, a sale associate offered to take his lead and go up a couple of aisles while I maneuvered the cart around a blocked corner. (because sometimes people don’t care how much space they block with their carts). I accepted. She and Ty went ahead, and I followed. He trotted merrily along, until he came to the corner two aisles up and realized somehow she wasn’t me. He stopped, backed away from her, and looked around. Spotting me coming up behind, he wagged his tail and looked relieved. Once I had his leash again, his world was right again.
During the check out process, which took a long time due to the crowds, he was a patient pup. He stood, ears up, loose lead, checking out all the action. His monster bone looked like it came off a dinosaur and by evening he already had the knuckle end worked off it.