Jackie's Web Page
| Hi! I'm Jackie. I'm a Jack Russell terrier. I was born in 1997 in Rose Canyon and came to Alpine a couple of months later. Our pack's home territory is an oak-brush foothill area in Dry Creek Canyon, on the edge of the mountains. It's loaded with deer, rabbits, and squirrels. But the Big Dog won't let me chase them. Wants to let them get fatter before we eat them, I guess. This picture shows me in the Lone Peak Wilderness, just a 5-minute dog run from our den. This part of our pack's territory has huge trees, granite cliffs, and roaring rivers. |
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My strain is an offshoot of the fox terrier family. Our
breed was developed long
ago in England by the Reverend John (Jack) Russell to help hunt foxes. He wanted a dog
that was small enough to get into a fox-hole, white so he could see it at a
distance, and untiring so it could chase a fox forever. This picture shows me catching the round thing, which keeps getting away from other pack members. |
| The Jack Russell strain loves to run. In fact, if we don't get exercise,
we may tear everything in the den apart. I love to run behind the Big Dog on the two-wheel
thing. Been doing it since I
was four months old. This photo shows me in Fort Canyon, not too far from our den. I'm a bit muddy. The Big Dog wears that funny yellow thing on his head. If he doesn't turn it yellow-side-up, I lick the salty stuff on the inside. He must want the salty stuff himself, because when I lick it he growls at me. |
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I'm 13 inches high at the shoulder and weigh about 12 pounds. That may not
sound fierce to you, but I'm a tough little dog. I protect the weaker pack members when
they leave our den. Their teeth are short, and they don't bark very loud. So I guard them
against danger. The little pack members are Kristen, Alex, and Jessica. This picture shows me on patrol, keeping the coyotes and cougars away. |
| Jack Russells are tireless hunters. We're a "working breed," not
one of those fancy, empty-headed, genetic-defect ridden, inbred, dog-show freaks. Whether
we're digging up the grass (looking for a gopher to share with you for lunch), mulching
stray toys (to help with recycling), or jumping up on the UPS driver (welcoming him to our
territory), we're always busy. Here on the shore of the pond, the Big Dog managed to kill some turkey tetrazinni for us to eat. That's pack member Alex holding me back until the Big Dog eats his portion. |
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Speaking of working, I help the Big Dog get pictures of mountain biking
trails. And here I'm posing for a picture that will be part of a First Aid CD. Modeling is
tough work. You have to exercise a lot and watch your diet to keep a shape like mine. I'm just breaking in to show business. You may know one of my relatives, Wishbone. He's a TV star. He even has his own line of books. Smart dog. And there's Eddie, on Frazier. And "My Dog Skip." All Jack Russells. |
| My breed is very smart. That's because we were bred for ability, not for
looks. It's just a fortunate accident that we're so devastatingly handsome. Jack Russells come in smooth coat and rough coat versions. There's also a short-legged type. I'm the rough-coat, long-leg version. And boy am I good-looking. (I'm on the right. That's the Big Dog with the yellow thing on his head.) |
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People always laugh, wave, and point at me when they see me running behind
the two-wheel things. Like they think a little dog should stay in the den? I do about 100
miles a month with the Big Dog, and I run with other pack members almost every day. My top
speed used to be 22 miles per hour. I'm a little slower now. But my biggest day was
at age eleven: 37 miles and 4700 vertical feet. I'm a sucker for Powerbars. I mooch little pieces of Powerbar from other pack members when they manage to find and kill one. Peanut Butter is my favorite flavor, but I love 'em all. This picture shows pack member Kristen giving me a little piece of Berry Powerbar. |
| So the next time you see a little white dog with brown ears chasing a
mountain bike, don't yell "Hey, it's Wishbone!" And don't call me
a "cute puppy." I've been there and done that for quite a few
years now.
And don't expect me to get along with your big dumb dog. No matter how much the yellow-helmet Big Dog yells at me, I just can't stand it when some good-ol-boy mutt wants to suck up. I'm much more likely to snap at your huge ugly dog than to "make nice." Must be the fox-hunter in me. |
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| Dogs aren't allowed on some trails. In other areas, you have to wear a leash! So if you like to run behind a bike, you'd better check the rules first. For example, here's a site that lists trails for dogs in the Salt Lake area: http://www.fs.fed.us/r4/wcnf/unit/slrd/recreation/trails/dog_trails.shtml |
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Come run with me and the Big Dog (the one with the yellow helmet) some
time. I love to meet new people. Especially if they smell of bicycle. I get so excited I can't stay on the ground. Jump, jump,
jump.
My name is Jackie, and I'm the toughest little dog in Utah. |
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