Remembering Jack

Jack, a year old, rescued brindle and white Pit Bull came to live with us shortly before we moved to the Leetonia in the fall of 2002. Jack, picked up as a stray in the city, didn’t know the first thing about being a mountain dog. The back of his canine teeth were unusually worn down for such a young dog. He showed us how he wore them down when he bent the metal door off his dog crate. I suspect he escaped many a fenced in yard this way as well.

Jack chased rabbits, squirrels, birds, bears and unfortunately his share of porcupines. His first summer in Leetonia he only caught porcupines and snakes, due to his inexperienced hunting style. I called it burn and churn. He would run fast and loud scaring everything away. Animals hid in the sharp multiflora bushes designed to protect them from predators. Fearless, Jack just viewed this as a minor slowing down as he tore through the bushes, the bushes tore of pieces of his ears off and left thorns in his coat. Later, when I petted him, the thorns would stab me. Daily, I pulled them out one after another. Fearlessness can be bad.

Jack worked with me everyday and kept all the animals out of the area. He thought he was protecting me but sometimes the way he defended me was down-right dangerous. I drove home for lunch, and it was time to go back to work. I opened the back door to walk to my truck. As soon as Jack stepped out the door he snorted and ran to the front of the house. I heard some noise and realized what ever he found he was chasing around the house.

There is a creek that runs close to the edge of our house and then a garage sits at about a 45 degree angle to the house. The garage at its closest point is within 15 feet of the back of the house. Set this way the garage funnels anything that comes around the house toward this narrow point. The point I stood at when I saw a 100lb adolescent black bear coming around the corner, ahead of Jack and directly at me. I had no time to think of anything but the feeling of what a 100lb bear hitting me running at top speed was going to feel like. I braced for impact and the bear lunged over the lawn tractor next to me. Jack gained ground as he passed me he was within two feet of grabbing the bears back leg.

I yelled, “No!”

He stopped and came back to me letting the bear run to freedom. He seemed to smile with pride as he looked at me. If he could have talked I am sure he would have said, “I showed that bear who was boss.”

This wouldn’t be the last time Jack tangled with bears and I feared one would kill the 50lb dog. It was the only time he tried to run me over with one.

We used to keep bird seed in the van to feed birds. Something we stopped doing because of the number of bears it attracted. The bird seed also attracted squirrels, Jack’s favorite thing to catch. Jack’s skills at hunting improved greatly his second summer, fewer thorns and a more thoughtful approach to hunting. He would often sit by the bird seed post and wait for chipmunks. He learned to sit motionless and let them move around a bit. Then in an instant snatched them and placed them in a pile while he waited for another one. It wouldn’t be uncommon for him to have five squirrels in a pile before the rest caught on to him. He was so intent on this nothing would distract him. Not even a female jogger who went within ten feet of him jogging up the mountain thought Jack was a statue. On the way back she jumped when she saw Jack’s ear move. Statue no, smart squirrel dog, yes.

Jack often followed me when I got bird seed out of the van, ready for any little critter that might be in there. This day he would hit the jack pot. As I opened the door, a red squirrel scampered inside the van and Jack leaped in after him. Jack and the squirrel went round and round knocking over everything then the squirrel flew out. And yes, it flew out right at me. It thought I was a tree and started circling and climbing my left leg. Jack flew out as well and was chasing the squirrel around my leg as it climbed higher and higher. I remember holding my breath getting ready to feel the bite of a squirrel or dog. Just as the squirrel got to my waist it flew off into the bushes with Jack close behind. Both the squirrel and I escaped injury or death by a narrow margin on that day.

This was just a couple of Jack escapades; I am hoping to write them all up in the future. But after sharing these stories last week with someone I wanted to share them with you here on the blog. This last picture shows Jack's first encounter with a porcupine.