Battle of the Terriers

                                                             

There was nothing different on this Friday evening except the fact I had spilled lobster bisque down the side of my chef pants 15 minutes before my shift ended. I would be alarmed if I did not hear two very distinctive barks echoing from my home as I strolled up the walkway. One bark is very deep and threatening and the other is high in pitch and piercing to the ears.

            This particular evening was quite the homecoming. When I opened the door I saw a bluish-gray blur of a pit bull clumsily trot like a playful horse across the kitchen floor. His razor sharp teeth were smiling at me and his tongue was flopping out the side of his massive jaw line. Trailing behind him was the ‘Prima Dona’ of all Yorkshire terriers. Her ears were perched high, her brown eyes were wide, and her little tail was erect.

  The Staffordshire Pit Bull Terrier, who rightly adorns the name Ruger, had pinned me against the kitchen door with his 92 pound body of solid muscle. His tail wagged profusely acting like a whip; his hips drastically wiggled side by side like a model in a bikini contest, but with far less grace. Ruger greeted me with the wettest of dog kisses and then noticed the scent of lobster bisque on my checkered chef pants. As his big box-shaped head began to move toward my leg his droopy lips left a white trail of drool down my pink chef coat before he started to feast on the remnants of food left on my clothing.

            In the meantime, Miss Mia, the Yorkshire Princess, cleverly dodged the powerful strikes of Ruger’s whipping tail that could send her shaggy five-pound body soaring across the room. With perfect precision she leapt onto the back of her brother breed, ran up to my chest where she always finds comfort, and proceeded to greet me with numerous dog kisses that quickly became annoying. Unlike the pit bull who slobbered up my cheek, little Miss Mia meticulously found the need to groom my face in detail. Quite opposite of the pit bull, the yorkie’s tongue is unusually long and exceptionally dry. I entertained the little dog’s affection until her long lanky tongue started to curl up into my nose then that was my cue to begin the calming-down process of these furry beasts who battled for my attention.

         Although there is a significant difference in size, both these canines have a similar body structure. They are both very broad and muscular. The most obvious difference other than their height is the width of their head. Despite the Yorkshire having a petite head and thus a much smaller brain size she can out-wit a pit bull with her clever and sometimes devious intuitiveness.  They are both extremely loyal and protective. Mia is the guard and the master manipulator. Ruger is the power and the threat. Mia is the type of dog that rarely sits still. She is constantly on guard and when something isn’t right she makes a fuss and Ruger joins her in the action. When we go on dog walks, if a stranger comes close, the pit bull will put himself between me and the other person. One time Mia ran out the back door and toward the road and Ruger chased after her and stopped her before she reached the street and oncoming traffic. These terriers are truly the definition of a man’s best friend.

 With all families, there are times when a difference of opinion may arise especially among siblings. The terriers who live in my home are not exempt from this rule. For instance, they constantly battle over the ratty skunk toy that no longer has any stuffing left in it.

And like most nights, a little doggy spat occurred. Ruger chose the large ratty skunk toy. Mia decided she didn’t want the small skunk toy that was still fluffy and squeaked. She wanted the large ratty skunk that was between the pit bulls paws. Mia, like most females, showed no mercy until she got her way. She is notorious for acting as if she is as big as a pit bull. She jumped onto the couch for higher ground, instigated, and when Ruger got up she latched on to his droopy lips and dangled until he shook her off. By then he had forgotten about the toy and she ran off with the prize. Although Ruger has the powerful ability to inflict much damage, he seems to respect her size and has always protected her from harm.

            Now that my animals have calmed down and I no longer smell like lobster bisque it was time to cuddle with my pets. Although Mia is a tiny dog and loves attention she generally does not show the submissive temperament of a lap dog. However, the beast with coarse prickly hair is a living, breathing, teddy bear. I heard Ruger whimper from the floor. He wanted to come up on the couch but Mia was in the way. I couldn’t refuse those big brown lazy eyes. I picked up my five pound munckin’ and petted her little mustache until she went on to the cushion behind my head. When the seat was clear, Ruger jumped onto the couch, made two circles, and then practically sat on my leg. Within minutes the three of us were snuggled up comfortably close with each other on the living room couch.

 Eventually, Ruger was drooling on my leg and snoring. Mia was curled in a tiny brown ball, peaceful and still. Feeling content petting my loyal, fury friends, I looked down at them and thought how different the three of us are; but yet how we yearn for the same basic need of love, friendship, and security.