Had a little JRT years ago. Barney. He was short leg and rough coat. Ugly fella. Head like an alligator and a duck killing SOB.
There was a big pond where I’d take the dogs to run. One day while talking with folks I noticed the JRT had disappeared. Start looking around and see him creeping up the steep pond bank on the far side of the pond.
At the top of the bank was an old woman sitting on a bench feeding a whole mess of ducks. She even had a little pail with ducks stenciled on it that held the bread or whatever it was she was feeding.
I watched as he crept to the top, I swear the little bastard was low crawling like a cat, and then bum rushed the whole flock around the old woman’s feet.
The ducks exploded into the air making a racket. One duck was a bit slow to get sufficient altitude. Barney lept into the air, snagged the duck, and proceeded to shake the everlovin’ life, as well as guts, out of it.
The old woman about schit. She was so pissed, traumatized, and bewildered she didn’t know what to do.
I still laugh about it 25 years later. He was a good dog.
