Tiomkin and Miss Ella are generally pleased that my day-job, and all the people I work with, have been sent home to telework. In all honesty, they’re not interested in the other people, but they’re thrilled that the order included me. Crunchies can be had for the asking, freshly marinated catnip mice twice daily. The extra birdseed I now have time to put out every morning means extra showings on the Ornithology Channel.
The cats have yet to photobomb my Skype meetings. (Give them time.) A forward-thinking workmate has scheduled weekly “take your [kid/dog/cat/fill-in-the-blank] to work” sessions so colleagues can meet those likely to interrupt business discourse.
Today, we met a sheepfold’s worth of collies: Border, miniature, full-size. Oh, and a long-haired Jack Russell. It’s appearance on my screen gave me the chance to recount the first Jack Russell Timothy and I met in England.
Gunnersbury Park, popular with Ealing’s dog-fanciers
It was during our first long walk from our new flat to Gunnersbury Park. It was a proper garden park, with flowerbeds and fountains. As we strolled the platform above the sunken garden, we noticed a fellow in a wind-cheater and flat cap walking two small, stubby-tailed dogs. They were off-leash, but obedient for all they seemed highly excitable.
He noticed us, and, perhaps concerned we were not dog-people, he called the dogs to him. One sat at his heel. The other looked up expectantly as the man held out a rubber figure-8 chew-toy. The second dog lunged up and bit the lower loop, and to our amazement, held on as the man lifted it into the air and walked up the steps toward us. He smirked at our open mouths and said, airily, “It’s a Jack Russell. They’re noted for their teeth.” And his own teeth bared, just like his dog’s, on the long ‘e’ sound.
It became a catch-phrase of ours, whenever we encountered another Jack Russell on the streets of London. I hadn’t seen one in Washington for years… Meeting one ‘at work’ was a delightful amble down memory lane.