Jack Russell Story

Courtesy of Kitl2@aol.com

Story Name: Memories of a Jack Russell
From: Lori Hale

My Jack Russell Story:

Since I was only five years old (20-something years ago) I have never been without a Jack. My Grandmother (age ninety-two) died last spring. My sister, whom inherited almost everything, tossed a box a junk she didn't want my way. Naturally being a little upset about my grandmother's death, I threw the box aside, and forgetting about it, I did not look into it until I found my Jack pup, Ale',in there with my grandmothers giant hat on hear head! I began to dig through the box when I found something very meaningful to me, a poem book which I'd written poems and read to my grandmother out of. I found a poem which was dated 1-15-83, the day my first Jack Russell died, I was fourteen. Though I've corrected some of the spelling, this poem is otherwise unaltered. I just would like to share it.

I do not think
it would be kind
to hold her eyes
and make her blind.

I know she is meant
to be free,
hunt and run
right in front
the huntmans gun.
On the chase,
in the hole,
it's hard to believe,
that you live with this animal.
Snarl, bay,
I've got the shovel,
have no mercy
on that devil!
I dig you out
and the biggest grin,
bursting from the pride within.
Your fist time in the earth,
but you want more
No different from the one's
that came before.

You've got a soft face,
and a strong soul,
but there's fire in you eye's
a blaze inside,
a story untold.
You will not settle for "pets"
the wild calls
there's a huger for the quest
and you will not rest at all

They hold you back,
but I set you free,
what else can Jack
ask of thee?
You need to run,
and need to play,
you choose to love me,
I'm glad you stay.

And to be with me is all you want,
the couch you'll bare,
but you prefer the hunt.
Running on the foxes trail,
and fling in your face..
wait a minute,
you've got his tail!
Oops, gone without a trace.

You see the knowledge
in her eyes
from hunts long gone and past
in her heart
you know it's true, the memory stays steadfast.

Years fly by, long past your prime
I know it's in your roots
I'm sure you'd like to go one more time.
So I put on my boots.
I grab your collar
and pick my jacket off the floor
in the parlor
and your already at the door!
The sparkle in your eye
could never be matched
it all most makes me cry
to hunting your so attached!

I let you out
and you've gone to ground
and though I shout
I hear no sound.
You've been in there quite a while,
and I do not hear a cry
I think a minute, and then I smile
this is the way you'd choose to die.

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