My dog, Buster, is an interesting creature. Buster is a Jack Russell Terrier. Prior to Buster, we owned Dixie, a lab mix, and Heidi, another JRT. When Dixie died, Heidi hid in the closet for days and mourned. I figured it was time for another dog to perk her up.

Okay, the truth is that I missed Dixie horribly and really wanted another dog. But, I did feel sorry for Heidi.

I searched dogfinders.com for another JRT in a pound in our area. The closest was an 18 month old JRT mix called Charlie. Charlie was a good 50-mile drive away. I called to make sure he was still available. He was. But, the service person told me to make sure and bring Heidi to make sure they got along.

I drove through pouring rain, ran into an accident, but finally ended up at the West Pasco SPCA. When I went in to inquire about Charlie, I was told he didn't get along with other dogs. I wondered why the hey they didn't tell me this before I drove 50 miles in the pouring rain. They asked me to get Heidi out of the car and meet them in the side yard. I did. The two dogs met... and it was like, "Hey, you're a dog." "Hey, you're a dog, too." They were fine!

I adopted Charlie and took him home. The first thing he did when I opened the car door was run away. Fortunately he ran between the neighbor's house and ours. My husband came home from work right about then. Mind you, my husband wasn't quite as excited about getting another dog as I was. I let Charlie in the door and he started bouncing off the walls. Literally.

I had to wonder what on God's earth sort of monster had I brought home! As the next few days went by, we were trying to come up for a new name for him. One day, Charlie was acting up. My husband said, "Cut it out, Buster!" He settled down. From that moment forward his name has been Buster.

Buster isn't just called that because of that particular incident. When new folks come to the door, particularly men, Buster bounds straight for the crotch. Therefore, his middle name is Nuts.

This poor hopeless dog suffers another malady, something I think the red-neck idiots at West Pasco SPCA were unaware of. He has what is called "leash aggression”. In other words, he is fine with other dogs as long as he is not confined (crate or leash). When I take him for a walk and he comes upon a strange dog, he growls like a rabid monkey and makes 180s in the air, at about the middle of my chest. The other dog owners kind of skirt me, while I try to wrestle this mad demon down the road.

The funny thing is that we used to call Heidi the bad dog. Ha!

Poor Heidi. Well, actually Heidi has turned out to rule the roost. Buster may be ... ermmmm... high strung, but Heidi can put him down in an instant. He doesn't mess with her. Well, except for...sheesh. How to put this delicately. All dogs that come from the SPCA are fixed. Buster doesn't know he's missing his testicles. One day, a few months after I brought him home, I found him and Heidi stuck together in the back yard! I didn't think it was possible! Leave it to Buster.

Buster likes to dig. Our neighbors have two Jack Russells next door, and they dig together so that Buster can come over and play. I found him digging the other day. I yelled at him, and he looked at me over his shoulder then turned around and dug harder.
Stupid dog.

For all that Buster seems fearless, the moment I sit down, he wants on my lap. He loves being petted. He wants on the bed next to me while I'm sleeping. He also freaks when he realizes that I'm getting ready for work... major separation anxiety.

He is also terrified of thunder. He shakes horribly, even before we humans can hear the thunder. Oh, by the way, the Tampa Bay area is the lightning capital of the world. Figures, huh?

Buster has this defense mechanism. If he thinks we are trying to catch him to ... give him a bath, put him in his crate, kick him out of our bedroom, then he dives under the bed. Woe to the person who tries to get him out, because they will come away with a bloody stump. Under the bed is his territory, which is fine with me. I don't really want that part of the house for my own. I just wait patiently for him to meander out, then catch him while he's not looking.

What I've learned from Buster is this. I'm fairly certain he was abused as a pup. It amazes me that his former owner had him chipped, and yet gave him up for adoption. I can tell he's been hit, probably severely.

I've learned that leash aggression comes from puppies not being properly acclimated with adult dogs. In the canine setting, adult dogs teach pups pecking order. Buster is freaked out when another dog approaches and he has no out. He's stuck on a leash!
Being afraid makes people do weird things, too. Sometimes we act passive aggressive out of fear. Sometimes we act irrational, or territorial. But, it can all be traced back to fear.

One time I threw dishes and broke them because my kids wouldn't clean the kitchen. I wasn't angry that they wouldn't clean the kitchen. I was angry that I felt ineffective as a parent. I was worried that I wasn't raising them right.

The problem with Buster is that I can't explain to him his fears are irrational. He is acting on his wolf-like instinct. Eat or be eaten.

But I wonder if more humans took the time to wonder why they are behaving in an aggressive or irrational manner, and to work on that behavior, what a better place this would be.