Jigs and Chloe are in love.
I know many people will probably just roll their eyes and accuse me of anthropomorphizing my dogs’ behavior - but, actually, I really don’t care. As a pet owner and dog musher, I’ve witnessed dogs expressing a wide range of emotions: jealousy, guilt, worry, vanity, fear, pride, thankfulness, boredom, bravery, optimism, joy, and even love.
Jigs, my German Jagd Terrier (“jagd” means “hunting” in German), has always been a momma’s boy. He’s attempted to eat the ankles off of many of my male friends. He is a very serious terrier who thrives on routine – up at 5:30 am, eat, run and hunt, nap until late-afternoon, run and hunt again, eat, snooze until dark, a walk around the block before bed. He enjoys his quiet time, his privacy, and often chooses to remove himself from the stresses of the outside world by retiring to his den – his beloved dog crate.
Jigs has never had much use for other dogs. After several years of grumbling and growling and fighting, he has finally learned to accept the fact that Borage, my good-natured sled dog, now lives inside the house with us. Jigs continues to flash Borage the stinkeye when he gets too close to his terrier throne - the plush chair - or to his singing Peter Cottontail toy.
Jigs is now 6 years old – the perfect example of “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” But Jigs wasn’t inspired to change his ways, lighten his mood, or share with others because he was trained to. It’s all because he’s in love.
Jigs is no saint. He is no Golden Retriever. He loves me because I feed him and run him and pet him whenever I have a free hand. In other words, I love Jigs dearly (because he’s so darn cute) and he seems to think that I’m worth loving back (because I am the keeper of the treat bag).
But when Jigs met Chloe, everything was different. His eyes literally lit up, his stubby tail wagged at a speed I’d never seen it wag before, and most astonishingly, he flipped over onto his back with all four legs in the air – a sign of true submission. And, believe me, Jigs is not the submissive type.
The apple of Jigs’ eye is a peculiarly-proportioned corgi/pointer mutt. Her black and white coat is smooth and shiny like a wet seal, her ears are big and floppy, her butt is muscled like a horse. It’s her legs, or lack of legs, that makes everyone stop, stare, and ask me, “What kind of dog is that?”
Chloe is a pointer with corgi legs. She can walk underneath Jigs and barely brush his belly.
I first saw Chloe’s picture on www.montanapets.org, a website that displays pets from most of the humane societies and shelters across the state of Montana. Two summers ago, my parents lost their beloved “Rosa,”a sweet Benji-like mix I adopted from the Helena Humane Society in 1996 and trained for them that winter. I’d been searching all of this time for a dog just as special as Rosa - she was a lot to live up to - and finally found Chloe.
When we got back to Indiana, my parents fell in love with Chloe; Brenda, my childhood friend who is moving to Montana in a month, fell in love with her too. But Cupid’s arrow hit Jigs the hardest.
Now, Jigs throws routine aside and spends hours a day wrestling with Chloe. She grabs him by the cheek and drags him across the floor like a limp ragdoll. He can’t seem to get enough of her abuse.
Jigs and Chloe take turns grooming each other; they carefully lick each other’s faces, the insides of their ears, down the legs, and even the paws. Jigs not only lets Chloe near his throne, he also allows her to sleep on it beside him. Sometimes, Chloe can even be found inside his crate – the two curled up, backs touching.
And the clincher, what made my parents and Brenda and I realize that these two lovebirds shouldn’t be separated: often times I catch Chloe and Jigs asleep on my bed spooning. Jigs cuddling with another dog – I never, ever thought I’d see the day.
So with my parents blessing, plans have changed. I am keeping Chloe until Brenda moves to Montana. After she gets settled, she’ll take Chloe. That way, Jigs and Chloe can take turns spending the night at each other’s house.
Love is in the air. Why spoil it?
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