A Puppy For Archer

Archer, our Jack Russell terrier got a new friend last week. Tess, a smooth-coated Irish Jack has stolen all our hearts because she’s so darn adorable—even when she’s chewing the buttons off your shirt with her carpet tack teeth.

When Archer’s friend and nemesis Snap (our first Jack Russell) died last year, he was on his own in the house. Without Snap to befriend and torture, he turned his attention to me. Archer dropped a ball onto my computer keyboard at least 10 times a day. If I threw it, he’d run madly after it, hurling his burly body through the air, crashing into walls, threading through table legs, balling up all the throw rugs. Once he’d nailed the ball, he’d run laps around the house, growling and twisting his wedge head back and forth like a madman. Then he’d come barreling at me, ball in mouth and slam it back down on my keyboard.

Time for a puppy.

Now instead of attempting to lure me into a game of catch every 15 minutes, Archer plays with Tess. Yelping with pain when she bites his ears, Archer runs around the house with Tess in hot pursuit, her stumpy legs pumping. She looks like a crazed wind-up guinea pig. They roll across the floor under my feet an angry two-headed beast—snarling, yipping, and biting—while I write.

New puppy. Good solution. I’m getting so much work done now.