Jock

"Hey, Jennifer!" my old sister called. "Come look at this man's cute dog!"

I ran to the front door, and there he was: the very cute dog. Also, very excited and very wiggly. I remember sitting on the floor with my sisters shrieking with delight while he ran around us, wagging his tail and giving kisses.

After that, he was ours.

Here are the parts of the story I don't remember firsthand: One of my dad's employees asked him if he wanted a dog. Dad said, no, absolutely not. He was recovering from surgery, the backyard wasn't fenced and the last thing he needed was a dog. So this guy showed up on Christmas Eve with an untrained, intact male dog and presented it to us kids.

My dad later fired that guy, but not because of the dog.

We named him Jock, after the Scottish Terrier in Lady and the Tramp.

He was a Cocker Spaniel/Poodle mix.

Once a year, he went to the groomer for a professional haircut.

One time, he came back looking like a Clydesdale.

It was kind of ridiculous - but always the horse girl - I was delighted.

Summer dog/winter dog.

Jock knew some good tricks, but he wasn't really trained in the traditional sense.

He jumped on people (I never minded), had bad leash manners and was often inappropriate with other dogs.

He also wasn't housebroke. My parents weren't interested in having an indoor dog, so his entire life was lived in our backyard.

We lived in Los Angeles County, so it wasn't like he was going to freeze out there.

Still, my sisters and I really wanted him to come inside the house.

Every now and then, we'd sneak him in, and every time, he'd reward our efforts by hiking a leg and peeing on something.

Every. Single. Time.

That was disappointing, but also, it didn't matter much. 

He was a good dog. He was our dog. 

We loved him completely.

He loved us, too, and protected us.

There was one time - I was probably ten or eleven - when I was walking home from a friend's house and noticed a strange man walking behind me. There was something about him that pinged my radar, and I started walking faster and faster. Despite that, he kept getting nearer and nearer.

I reached my house and saw an empty driveway. No one was home. Instead of going to the front door, I went straight to the backyard. 

I went to Jock.

The man followed me all the way to the gate. Jock sensed my fear and went into full protective mode: barking, growling jumping. He wasn't a big dog, but he was fierce.

The man told me he was selling cosmetics door to door. He said he would give me some free samples if I did something with the dog.

Obviously, I didn't take him up on that. 

I don't know what would have happened if Jock hadn't been there. I'm glad I don't know. 

I'm glad I had Jock.

I don't know why I haven't written about him here before, but Jock was the best dog. We were so lucky to have him.