Zacky was a very special dog and came into my life during a time when I really needed a companion (about 6 months before I lost Jerry). Now that Zacky is also gone, I’ll speak for him by sharing his stories with you! Perhaps through me you’ll get a sense of his outspoken and fun-loving nature. Maybe it’ll take you back to memories of your own pet and put a smile on your face!
And I’m sure if he doesn’t agree with something I’ll say, he’ll let me know in his own special way!
Lynn Rose
Here is our lovable Zacky at 7 weeks old
Jerry and I found him in the shower and draped him with this towel. Does he look like a boxing champ?
Here's me with my best companion, Zacky!
"If I find it, it's mine!" (The little thief stole my underpants!)
Handsome Zack just couldn't help it. Whenever the camera was pointed his way, he'd strike a pose just like a movie star.
The park and the water bowl: An innocent bystander stopped to take a drink. Zacky made a beeline for it and...
This may not be easy to believe, but Zacky was known for his friendliness!
When I found him he wasn’t asleep. No, he had one eye out for me, anticipating what I might do once I found him in my bed on my pillow.
Zacky on my pillow. Waiting for my reaction to finding him there.
I coulda been a show dog!
THE BEGINNING OF THE BEGINNING
by Zacky
The beginning is how the beginning of these things normally happens. I picked her. I’m sure you’ve heard this story a million times. Puppies are let free, all the puppies scatter, but there’s one…there’s always one…that comes up to the person who then claims to “choose” him or her. When in fact, it’s the puppy who chooses. Who’s kidding who?
But I move ahead too quickly. At this point, although the Breeder No. 2 (there is a Breeder No. 1 who you will get to know later) had made it clear she couldn’t give a commitment regarding any puppy at 4 weeks (I was hardly bigger than a muffin, but that’s beside the point) because they didn’t know which of us they wanted to be show dogs.
I COULDA BEEN A SHOW DOG
I myself didn’t give a lot of thought to this. I just know that, much as I loved Mum (I call her Mum because, if you don’t know, I’m a Wheaten Terrier (and my ancestors were Irish, and they call their Mums Mum) and while Mum’s milk was tasty all right, I was ready to roam, get out into the world and start living my life.
But the show dog proposition made my life hang in the balance for a bit longer.
Meanwhile, the breeder told my future mom though we didn’t know it yet she could come back in two weeks to see me again.
TWO WEEKS LATER…
When I saw her, I thought to myself, “I liked her well enough the first time, this could be fun”. How wrong I was. Before I knew it she was holding my front part of me while the breeder was taking my temperature at my back end and this was worse than awful. Apparently, I had a cold or something. I could tell the woman holding my front end was having a lot worse time emotionally than the woman holding my back end and I wasn’t happy with either one of them.
Next thing, I found myself placed at the trough where my brothers and sisters were lapping up liquid breakfast.
Truthfully, I don’t remember what happened after that. Must have fallen into a dead sleep.
SOME TIME PASSED…
I didn’t know how much time had passed or what happened to the woman.
But one day, there she was again. Both of us had changed a little. The hair on my body looked less like a baked potato and more like wheat (thus the name “Wheaten Terrier”), though you could barely see my eyes for the deep, dark brown color which remained on my face and beard. And she was beaming and I had definitely not seen that look before.
So I guess I wasn’t going to be a show dog. Did I care? Not really. I had far too much personality to be forced into a rigid lifestyle. I knew I was good looking (great looking, in fact) and I didn’t need a trophy to prove it.
Everything seemed just great until I saw … him. I didn’t know who him was but him seemed to go with her. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? I had no idea.
First, she cuddled me and it felt so good and then he, well, he wasn’t sure what to do with me. He sat me on one leg, kept me in place with his hands at my sides and he also held my paws with his fingers. I don’t know where he thought my tiny paws were going to go, but I guess he wasn’t taking any chances. He loved her and she loved me, and I guess that explains it right there.
That morning was the first time I heard my name. There were some rumblings, questions, musings about what to call me, and the name “Zacky” was mentioned. And then I heard it again, “Zacky, that’s a cute name, blah, blah, blah. After hearing it a few more times, I was beginning to get the idea.
And before I knew it, the three of us…Mom, Dad and I were in the car and leaving everyone in the world I had known so far. The one thing I didn’t know is Dad was sick. Very, very sick.
THE DOG PSYCHIC
For the next few months, the original breeder, Breeder No. 1, would have me come to her place to be groomed. One day I wound up spending the night. I didn’t know why Mom didn’t pick me up, but I got to see my brothers and sisters again and got to harass them a little about my being picked first and them having no Mom and Dad to go home to. Hey, it was fun. I was ten times smarter than any one of them. I had to do something with all that brain power.
Anyway, that night, as it turns out, a psychic came over. I had a vision. She was strange! She called each one of us over. Naturally, I didn’t go when called. That would have been stupid. I wanted to see what she was all about before I got anywhere near her. But my brothers and sisters … well, you can guess. While all of them were circling her, and licking her fingers and eating treats, I stood my ground.
And that’s how I got the description “independent”.
Brothers at play
Dances with puppies
Dog tired!
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