Jack the Brave
It was a bit chilly just after dark tonight and I'd already promised Jack a walk (uttering the infamous "W" word), planning to swing past the local charcoal chicken shop and pick up something for dinner...
Then I remembered I was all out of cash, so I dressed Jack in his collar, harness and cute little winter dog coat and we ventured off in the opposite direction: first to a Flexiteller ATM on the main road, and then several blocks down to the kebab shop. From past experience, I knew I could play out Jack's extend-a-lead enough to leave him on the footpath while I reached the shop's counter and placed my order.
We were almost two blocks from the shop when Jack started avoiding shop doorways and asking for "pick-ups". Ah! He was remembering that the kebab shop has an ultraviolet mosquito zapper. Jack hates mozzie zappers. Zzzzzzpt!
The guy who runs the shop must be scared of dogs, because he always asks me the same questions.
"Does he bite?"
"How old is he?"
"Are you sure he doesn't bite?"
"Why do his ears point in the wrong direction?" (ie. flattened back to his head)
Me: "Because he's scared of your mosquito zapper. I have one at home that I use during barbecues and he's scared of that one, too."
"He never sits for long when you say to him, 'Sit!'"
Me: "Because he's scared of your mosquito zapper." Zzzzzzpt!
"He looks frightened."
Me: "Because he's scared of your mozzie zapper." Zzzzzzpt!
"His legs are trembling. Is he cold?"
Me: "No, he's just scared of your mozzie zapper.
Sigh... My Big Brave Jack Russell is a wimp sometimes.
Sigh. "No pick-ups!"