Rudy is on the edge of total paranoia. His archenemy, the cat that never sleeps, is slowly driving him crazy. He sees the slinky feline roaming free through the neighborhood and strolling through the yard and rubbing his favorite tree. The cat tortures Rudy in Hitchcockian subtlety by arching here and preening there and easing past the window endlessly, back and forth, back and forth. Rudy’s sworn enemy is at once up a tree and atop the fence and the deck or on the chair. It’s a Jack Russellian nightmare. This ubiquitous cat seems to be everywhere at once, his nine lives endlessly extended into 40 lives being lived 24 hours a day across every square inch on our street and yard, seven days a week. Rudy is so exhausted he can hardly bark.
He has been moaning like a wounded goat and runs from window to window, door to door, and across the back yard, eyes bulging in a cat-induced frenzy. One afternoon, I saw him collapse on the deck, heaving and dropping into a deep sleep. Yet even in slumber, the constant cat visits his dreams. I expect him to erupt one day like Kramer in a comedy club with no Letterman show to apologize on. The cat is nudging him toward the edge of canine sanity.
I’ve seen the cat too. And it is indeed odd that he could be so everywhere at once. I followed this everycat one morning and discovered a nastily cruel hoax being played out daily since the new neighbors moved in a while back. The big tabby cat that Rudy has chased all his life has unknowingly been cloned and placed on both sides of our house. The new neighbors have another cat that looks exactly – down the the weird, curly stripe – like the cat that has lived next door since Rudy became part of our family. Ah, two identical cats, one on this side, one on that side. How perfect. What better way to drive a dog nuts? Especially when the dog is half nuts anyway.
This duality is causing Rudy some serious emotional problems and no amount of explaining on our part alleviates his distress. We don’t speak Jack. We have even tried to act out the twin cat caper. Nothing. There is no peace from the double threats to his domain. Rudy may need counseling.
I have been researching this thing on the Internet, talking to friends, reading up on psycho Jack Russells. I saw a show on Animal Planet about a pet hypnotist who can alter bad behavior and unruly habits (for $90 an hour). I saw a pet psychic who can read your dog’s mind (of course, who would know if he’s lying?). Then I Googled: Crazy Jack Russell, and I found my answer – YouTube.
After seeing several videos of crazy Jack Russells on YouTube, I’m thinking about putting Rudy on video. Maybe it will give him an outlet for his unrequited creative angst. I shot a few of these episodes and he seems to be responding. He has calmed down and appears to understand the idea. It’s like video therapy. I feel like a dog psychologist. I may open a practice or put these little clips on YouTube. Maybe it will help some other disturbed Jack Russells out there. Or maybe the videos will be the genesis of a Jack Russell “Blair Witch”-type project. This is way past Tom and Jerry or Cat-Dog or the Road Runner and the Coyote. This is deep and scary like “SAW6″ or “Hostel” or that disjointed, freaky little girl in the well from “The Ring.” Rudy may be the Wes Craven of Doggy Horror.
