Jeff the Jack Russell - Lessons in Looking Back

Jeff is the first dog that I looked after officially as a dog walker/sitter. He is small, with wide round eyes like dark pools, black whiskers, and a slightly upturned nose. What struck me most about Jeff is that he is a dog with a lot to say. He huffs noisily through his nose at you; is inclined to long, expressive looks; and loves jumping up and putting his feet on your knees to look you square in the face (and also, crucially, receive some quality strokes). Jack Russell Terriers typically approach life at full speed and with little regard for their size (this is certainly the case when it comes to my dogs!), but I get the impression that Jeff knows he is a small dog in a big world. This is unsurprising, considering that he came to his current home from a shelter. He had been living with his brother, but his previous guardian entered a relationship with someone who also had two dogs, and he was left behind. When Jeff jumps up, or stares at me, or whines and huffs I think he is probably asking me not to leave too. I wonder about all the great loves of his life and where they are in his heart now, where he thinks they’ve gone, and how he possibly makes sense of it. Jeff’s story and those eyes of his remind me that to be a dog is often to be small in world which moves cold and fast and without shame, and that looking back, listening, and refusing to turn away must be a way of taking responsibility.