A Jinxotic Interlude

Our nearest neighbor recently acquired a puppy who just happens to be about the same age as Jinx. He was supposed to be a basset hound, but turns out that he’s a basset/lab mix, as black as any lump of coal ever mined in these hills, low to the ground, sturdy as a sack of cement, ears down to yar, hilarious gait. He came a’callin’ the other evening, having escaped the confines of his own fenced yard.

Jinx and I were sitting outside, enjoying the breeze in the shade, watching the birds. I was half-reading, absently scratching his ears while he sat beside me, leaning against my chair, the one from which it is increasingly difficult to stand. A jingling noise attracted both our attention. A black shape was making its way up the driveway. I knew who it was, having stopped and chatted with the neighbor who owns the dog, but this was Jinx’s first glimpse. He stiffened, stood, cocked his head. Then he ran right for the invader.

They met on good terms, sniffing and circling, then ran across the front yard together. I put down my book and watched them frolic. Jinx was getting the better of the other dog due to his height, but I could tell the black dog was quite strong and had good stamina. He was wearing a fancy-dancy embroidered collar, which may have irritated Jinx. My resilient dog seems quite aware that his own collar is a Walmart special with his name and my phone number Sharpied into its fabric. Jinx slung the black puppy around pretty handily a few times, the fancy collar providing good purchase.

Did you know that bassets can run really, really fast for their size and build? I didn’t until I saw the black dog circle back behind Jinx while Jinx was looking over at me. The black dog spied Jinx’s chew bone, which we sometimes stuff with peanut butter, almost hidden in the clover. He nabbed it and hightailed it down the driveway towards home, ridiculous ears like championship pennants in the wind. Jinx ran after him for a few yards, then wheeled around and looked at me with a “HUH?” expression, then ran a few more yards, then turned and trotted back to me. He sat with his forehead wrinkled more than usual while I gently berated him.

“I can’t believe you let him steal your bone, Jinx. I can’t believe you let him outrun you. I can’t believe you’re going to just take that.”

His misery was fully a part of him. He seemed deep in thought. He seemed unsure. He seemed weary. I stopped teasing him and rubbed his ears and told him to come on in the house with me. We went inside and Jinx refreshed himself a bit by tormenting Dixee. Some good cheddar helped to assuage some of the sting of the loss of his chew bone. An unsettled and incomplete peace reigned for a short period.

Later, we were sitting outside as the night came on. I was watching lightning bugs and Jinx was rolling on his back, snapping at tiny wildflower buds as if they were popcorn. He rolled over and sprang to his feet, glanced at me, and then loped down the driveway, his head up.

Wonder where he’s going?

About fifteen minutes later, just as I was lurching to my feet, Jinx reappeared, prancing up the driveway like a Lipizzaner stallion, head in a regal bearing, legs pistoning up and down with a beautiful rhythmic precision.

He had his chew bone in his mouth.

I know not how he found the bone or reacquired it. I only know that in the future, I will be mindful about teasing Jinx in this fashion. He clearly takes such jests personally and feels bound to set things right.

~ S.K. Orr