Jameson!
It’s not about the whiskey.
On my way back from the park this afternoon, on a side street, a small animal ran in front of my car. I slowed down, stopped, and looked back. It was a small dog, who pranced back and forth across the road. I pulled to one side, and a pick-up truck dragging a large trailer pulled over to the other.
The dog ran back and forth between the two vehicles, trying to figure out which one he liked best.
There was a farm pushed back from the road, thought maybe he belonged there, so went up the driveway.
Pretty large area, several barns, a house, but no one seemed to be around. Honked my horn a few times, but nothing.
When I went back down the driveway, a young woman had joined our group, as the pick up truck guy held the dog.
He was shaking (the dog, not the driver).
The young woman found a dog tag, and there was a phone number and an address. They called the number, but went right to voice mail.
By now the dog was in the man’s truck, passenger side seat, his ears perked as he looked at me through the window.
With the pick up and trailer on one side of the road, and the young woman’s car on the other (no shoulders) cars started to back up behind us.
I stepped out into the road and started to direct traffic around the obstacles, while the young woman and truck driver google/mapped the address on the dog tag. I have seen how Jersey drivers act when their paths are obstructed and I didn’t want that to happen (again).
When there were no more cars, the truck driver had the address from the dog tag. Turns out, the owners lived right up the street.
With the dog in the truck, and me following, we pulled into the owner’s driveway. The truck driver walked up to the house, while I checked on the dog in the passenger seat.
He (or she) was fine.
From the back of the house, I saw two men (a father and son), who now noticed the truck and car in their driveway, moved toward me. The truck driver joined them and all three walked together.
When they got closer I asked if that was their dog who waltzed down the street.
“Yeah,” the dad said, “that’s Jameson, thinks he owns the place. He’s a Jack Russell terrier..”
I told him how the dog kept going between the cars, not sure of which one he wanted.
“Do you know why?” the dad asked.
No, I said,
“He wanted your tires.”
Never heard that before, guess dogs chase cars for the tires.
A few years early, in that same area, another Jack Russell ran towards my car, and when I opened my door, he tried to jump inside
Wonder if they were related?
Either way, the way he danced up and down that road, I’ll surely run into Jameson again.
Meet Jameson (keep an eye on your tires)
