I remember getting Archie as a pup. He was my only boy dog I’ve ever owned and the only dog that I’ve owned since he was a puppy. I always told him that I’d never have another boy dog because no one could ever replace Archie.
I went out to the place where I bought him from and he was the last puppy for sale. He was so cute and fat. They docked his tail a little longer so he’d have a white tip at the end. He was so fat that he couldn’t even walk across the room. I was in love.
I brought him home and we named him Archie Bungalow. Yes, it was quite a name. I started calling him Fat Boy. His vet records have always been under “Fat Boy” and as he slimmed down to the lean deer like appearance that he held for all his life but those first two months he still answered to Fat Boy, even until the very end. The vet’s office probably thought I was crazy 
I initially bought him because I had just moved out of my mother’s house and now my other dog, Josie, was going to be all alone. She was to be his new playmate when no one was home. They were the cutest pair. Josie was amazing and just made your heart melt. I have photos from back when Archie was smaller than the 7 pound Josie, long before he reached his typical size of about 17 pounds. As he grew so did his puppy – like energy .. so did his Jack Russell Terrier traits. I learned fast what it meant to own a Jack Russell.
Archie loved to bark. He was the party starter around the house. I’d wake up in the morning and he’d get so excited that he’d leap off the bed and start racing through the house barking, waiting for me to catch up. I’d say ‘outside’ and the same dog would leap to life from the deepest of sleep. In recent years him and Nina would race outside as fast as they could and fly towards the back shed, further digging in those doggy trails all over my yard. He’d race back and forth both fence lines, chasing Miley on one side and Cha-cho on the other.
He was so smart. I say full sentences and he knew exactly what I meant. Heck I’d even tell him to ‘go get’ one of the neighbor dogs (because they were begging to be chased) and he’d look at me and know exactly what I meant.
Archie got into everything. If I left something out, boy I knew it when I came home because it would be sitting on my bed, in pieces, waiting for me. Even at 10 years old he was still a full blown puppy. I never got mad though .. I’d just shake my head and clean it up. He was a Jack Russell, and he was Archie, after all. I had to put both my cat’s litter box and her food up on the ledges in the basement because Archie could climb and get into anything and everything. Speaking of climbing, yea, Archie could climb my fence too .. but only when his momma was on the other side and he couldn’t be next to her
He was the best boy ever. He didn’t need a leash because Archie loved me so much that he’d never leave my side. He’d follow me everywhere and never stray far, even if it meant sitting on the bathroom floor while I took a shower. He’d walk the garbage out with me at night or make that late night run out to my car because I left something in it. I used to go out front to work in the yard and Archie would just sit on the front porch and watch me. If I walk out of his sight he was instantly up to see where I went. In the evenings he’d sit on my pillow and every time I’d look back at him he’d just be laying there watching me. I think he loved me as much as I loved him.
And Archie smiled. Archie always smiled at his momma. A full teeth grin that made your heart fall to pieces. He was such a pretty boy too. Sometimes he smiled because he liked something I’d say and other times he’d smile because he had been bad, again.
I would never kennel him. There was no way I could kennel Archie. He’d hate that. I would insist that he’d stay with one of my family members and preferably one that would give him the ‘attention’ that I wanted Archie to have. When I could I would take Archie out of town with me. He’d just walk into the back seat and sit quietly during the trip. We went to Columbus, Cincinnati, and even down to the lake a few times. Speaking of the lake, when we’d go out on the boat I’d have to take Archie with me .. he wouldn’t like being stuck in the house all day like that. So he’d ride on the pontoon boat with us and I’d have to convince him to not jump when I’d take a swim in the lake. Finally he’d accept that and just sit on the edge and watch me.
I timed my life around Archie .. It was always I have to leave soon because Archie needs to go out. I need to spend more time at home this weekend because I need to hang out with the dogs more. I pull up in the driveway and Archie was already running through the house, barking, waiting for me to get out of the car. I swear he heard me coming a mile away.
At night he’d start out either laying on my pillow or right next to it. I’d always reach up to him and give him a kiss on his muzzle while telling him I loved him. Then he’d get up and work his way to ‘his spot.’ If there was a dog there, well I simply had to change sides because Archie had to sleep in ‘the nook.’
In the morning I was always running late to work because I had to spend a good 5 minutes giving the dogs some love before I left. Ever since my foster dog, Trixie, died a couple of years ago (of breast cancer) I told myself that I’d cuddle with the dogs every morning to make sure they knew, always, how much I loved them.
I came home that day and opened the door. Two of my dogs surfaced, and one ran outside, but there was no sign of Archie. I kept calling and then I started to panic. Around the corner came Archie, slowly, smiling at me. My first thought .. OMG he finally killed my cat. I rushed the dogs back inside and caught back up with Archie on my bed after determining the cat was unharmed. Two seconds later I was on the phone with the vet. I told them he just wasn’t Archie and yea I needed to bring him in as an emergency. Something was wrong with my baby boy.
We went to the vet and came home a few hours later. Archie was very still that night and it was obvious to me that he was sick or just didn’t feel good. The next morning I woke up and Archie had gotten sick absolutely everywhere on my bed. I called the vet immediately. While waiting for the doctor to get in I took Archie to work with me because I wanted to make sure I kept my eye on him. Once the doctor called back I immediately brought him so he could be treated for Pancreatitis, something the doctor said has typically an 85% healing rate. I went to see him the next day and he looked so sick.. I just cried and cried while holding him at the vet’s office. I kept asking the vet if this was typical and kept getting a yes answer and not to worry because it takes time for Archie’s body to heal. The next day, on January 26th, I got a call from the vet, saying Archie’s condition had worsened and that he was now in a life threatening condition. In the blink of an eye it went from my baby being sick to I could lose him.
I don’t remember the drive to the vet’s office nor do I remember anything he said. Thank goodness my sister was off that day and could meet me up there. I just remember the moment that my world fell apart. My ten year old baby was, in an instant, ripped from my life. I didn’t have time to prepare or even to say goodbye.
No more barking through the house. No more Archie smiles. No more WWE wrestling on the bed with me saying “Archie quit.” No more of his spastic cuddle romps while sitting in my lap. No more car rides. No more Archie ..
My dogs are so sad. Even my cat is depressed about it. The neighbor dogs just sit there and wait .. for a dog that is never going to chase them down the fence line again. This has been a horrible nightmare that I will never be able to shake. I keep looking at my pillow, closing my eyes, and praying to God that I will never forget his face back there watching me tinker on the computer. Now, my baby, my ball of energy, my Archie, is in an urn on my dresser. How is this fair?
I don’t understand why such amazing creatures only live so long or even why Archie had to be taken from us. I never will understand it nor think it’s fair. There should be so much more of this story to tell but it’s like someone ripped the pen out of my hand. As hard as it is for me to imagine him gone I am still thankful that I was blessed with him for the ten, almost eleven years that I had him. I just wish that I would have had more time ..
