The cable guy was here when I came back from Target (new sneakers for Kate, Oxi-Clean, 10 notebooks for a buck). He was on a ladder at the pole, which looked promising. I came in, and Spriggy was doing the usual jaunty room-to-room trot he does when we have company (company who isn’t eating, that is; for them he sits adoringly at their feet).
“The cable guy likes Spriggy,” Alan said. “He has two Jack Russells.”
When he came back into the house, he told us the story of his pair of terrierists — how the female bosses the male mercilessly, but he defends her like a lion against all intruders. He also has two pit bulls, and the Russells are the bosses of them, too. They like to tease the bigger dogs, taunting them from inches beyond the limit of the chain the pits are kept on.
Then he told us about the time the male Russell was digging a hole in the yard. He moved him to a kennel and covered the hole with an old car wheel. The dog did what any self-respecting Russell would do — tunneled out of the kennel and returned to the hole, where he got his head stuck in the wheel.
“We had to take him to the vet, and there was a crew from ‘Animal Cops’ there. They came out with their minicams, shooting the whole thing, and then they came back a month later to see how he was doing.”
“How did they get his head out?” Alan asked.
“Put him to sleep and greased him up with mineral oil, and it slid right out, because he was relaxed,” he said. “That dog got me seen all over the world.”
“Wow,” I said. “That’s a good story. Is the cable working now?”
“No,” he said. “This is a case for the line tech guys. It’ll be a couple more days at least.”