Jackie.

This is my dog.

We call her Jackie, but she answers to just about anything, especially if there is bacon around. So why am I telling you this?

Because she's funny.

And she barks.

And she just doesn't really like me much.


She's 9 years old now (at least I think) but at the time this picture was taken we hadn't had her very long and she was probably about 4 or 5. Her brown coloring has grown lighter as she's gotten gray hair/fur and she's not nearly as pleasant as she used to be.

What does she do exactly?

She weighs 19 pounds but thinks she's 190. If you knock at the door, she will come full speed barking and carrying on like the mob is trying to kill everybody and take off with the loot. And if you're sitting down with her or if she's laying in bed with you and you move a way she doesn't like, a low growl will come followed by a mean, mean bark and another "grrrrrrrrrr..." She means business. And you can forget letting her around other dogs or small children. My brother's dog and her are longtime foes. Actually, I was afraid Jackie killed Lulu once. But in all her "bad girl" persona, if she gets scared enough she will use the bathroom like it's her job. Such a pansy.

But in all this, her temper, her hatred of any other four legged creatures and her need to be the queen, she's still my puppy, and I tend to spoil her on rare occasions.

For instance when I look at her and say "truck" she runs to the door, ready to go outside, knowing what she's about to experience.



And for a few brief moments she loves me again. Then when I'm not paying any attention or stopped somewhere she eats my entire pack of Orbit gum I keep in the cup holder and we're back at square one.