Never Under Estimate Small Packages
Never Under Estimate Small Packages
Amber hates this picture. She says the dogs look silly because their tongues are hanging out. I kinda like them that way. When I think of “The Boys” this is the picture that pops into my head.
This was the last time we went to play ball. It was almost 4 years ago as of this post’s writing.
I’d get my keys on Saturday morning and they KNEW we were going to the park. The park I took them to in Evans GA wasn’t actually a park at all. It’s the open field behind Kroger.
We’d throw the ball for what seemed like forever. Chase would do what he’d done for years before… run down the ball as fast as he could. That dog was like lightning. Butler would do what he’s always done. Run after Chase and play defense like an NFL Safety barking at Chase for his entire return.
Chase would chomp, chomp, chomp on the ball then drop the slobber ridden mass on the ground. That was his way of asking me to
“Do it again, daddy”.
Chase had explosive speed. I guess that’s why I think of him as a “Small Package” like dynamite. At times it seemed as if his legs were fully extended front and back and his hatchet-shaped chest was only an inch or so off the ground. Fully stretched into a sprint with pin-point eyesight that could follow a green racket ball’s every move in the flowing grasses of and Augusta Summer.
Chase was the runt of the litter and no one’s first pick. That’s why he was MY first pick. (I have a soft spot for underdogs). When I got him, he had to walk AROUND pine cones in my yard because he was to small to step over them. Rat Terriers are pretty common now, but people still ask me, “Now what kind of Jack Russel is he?” Kinda like saying “What kinda Coke is it?”.
Born January 30, 1993, Chase was a scrawny, lean, and a little strange looking. You don’t need to do math to know he’s old. This picture is my last memory of “The Boys” doing their little game of you get it and I’ll bark at you (that’s what Butler calls it anyway). Chase would fetch a beer from the cooler, bring me my hat, and he even climbed a 22ft extension ladder to join me on my mother’s roof once. (no kidding… and no I didn’t ask him to. He just did it to be with me)
The lesson I’ve learned from Chase and Butler in all of these years is to never under estimate small packages. I’ve been blown away by how much these little critters know. The are very smart and very adaptive.
In recent years, Chase’s health is declining. He’s not in any pain or at least he doesn’t show it. However, he doesn’t run… at all. He has forgotten (or so it seems) his house training. He can’t see because of his cataracts so there’s no pin-pointing green racket balls in the Augusta Summer any more. He’s not the dog he used to be, but he surprises me everyday with his love and ability to stick around.
Thank you, Chase and Butler for teaching me that just because someone is small doesn’t mean they are only capable of small things. You both have changed the lives of every human you’ve met. Here’s to you “Little Man” and “Booshé”.
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Man I remember many a night sittin on the back deck in Lake Park throwin the ball around. I dont believe that Lincoln ever beat Chase to a ball and after about 8-10 throws he was done and givin up. Chase is one of a kind!!! He always kept us at bay whenever u were sleepin so we couldnt wake u up The favorite memory of Butler Boosh’e is when he ate that loaf of raw dough and burped wheat bread for a week. Damn the last 10 yrs have flown by!