Jethro is a digger. Who is Jethro, you might ask? He’s a 15-month-old coonhound mix puppy. I say puppy in physical name only, as he’s over 65 pounds and is very tall.
Jethro came to us as a dumped puppy who stepped out in front of my car as an eight-week-old baby on a back road in Summerton. No, I didn’t hit him with the car. I also couldn’t just drive around him and leave him there. I’m not wired that way.
So home with me he came and was introduced to our other three dogs: Cadie, a Labrador retriever; Remy, a Lab-Bluetick mix; and Ellie Mae, a Beagle. As a little guy, he and Ellie Mae bonded rapidly. Even now, with him more than twice her size, they are still best friends.
Jethro is very much a work in progress. He loves to steal paper towels and will shred any he can find. His other love is cardboard boxes. This can be something as grand as a large packing box or a small Kleenex box. We save boxes for him. Cereal boxes. Cracker boxes. Boxes that come in the mail. Even an empty paper towel roll is fun to shred all over the house. And shred he does. Little. Tiny. Pieces. Everywhere. It’s a fun game for him. Honestly, we don’t mind.
In the yard, he’s the sentry. He runs the fence line looking to make sure nothing is coming. Funny thing is, he loves people. He’ll bark, but all he wants to do is get your attention so you’ll come pet him. Squirrels or birds, though…those are a huge danger. You just never know when one might come into our yard to commit mayhem. At least in his mind.
His biggest joy, however, is digging. Last summer, we finally had to run electric wire along one side of the fence line to keep him from digging out after we had chased him down in the neighborhood for the third time in as many days. Now, mind you, he dug out with us in the yard with him. This wasn’t because he spends all his time alone in the yard.
Once he realized he couldn’t dig out any more, he began hunting moles in the yard. And we began finding holes in the yard. Small holes, big holes, deep holes, wide holes. We fill them in when we find them, but he simply digs more.
I think my husband has finally given up on the idea that he might have a pretty lawn. However, he adores Jethro, so the trade-off is worth it.
Jethro also loves to follow me into the garage when I do laundry. The game here? Stealing. He runs in and tries to sneak back out with a prize: the sponge to clean the car, an old rag my husband used to work on his motorcycle, a dropped sock from the laundry. Then the game becomes keep-away with his prize as we try to get it back. Thank goodness for the magic word, “COOKIES!”
In the evenings, our giant digging puppy wants to be a little, tiny lapdog. I don’t think he realizes he really doesn’t fit in a lap. He’s determined to try anyway. He crawls into a lap as we sit on the couch, his backside hanging off and his head lolling past ours. In his mind, he’s just a little boy who needs a cuddle, and we do our best to give it to him.
Eventually he will doze off and nap while we watch a bit of TV, and we look at the giant puppy, this sweet boy who gives wet, sloppy kisses and adores his doggy and people family. He will look up with a sweet and innocent look on his face, and we instantly forgive him for all the holes and shredded paper towels and boxes and stolen treasures of the day. If those are the prices for the love he gives and laughter he brings, then so be it. May you all be so lucky.
