If only he could tell his story


The name suited our little Jack Russell dog as he was always getting himself in a pickle. This is a true story about our little dog  who went missing for almost a year.  Although we only know the beginning and end of his adventures and can only surmise what happened in between, I think this story shows just how amazing these little dogs can be.

It was 1963, when we moved into our new home.  There were still a few houses still being built opposite us and Mum would often make the workmen cups of tea. Our little dog Pickle got to know and befriend everyone he met, so he was well known in and around the new estate that we had moved to and had a lot of freedom to wander in and out of everyone's home. He quickly got to know these workmen and was often found scrounging morsels of their lunch. 

Pickle was an amazing little dog, who discovered that he could get away with just about everything by walking on his hind legs for quite some distance, which amused everyone he met so they all became very attached to the little one.

It was one Friday when he didn't return home.  We weren't too worried as this wasn't the first time he had gone missing, and there was always a kind neighbour who would bring him home after finding him curled up in their cupboard fast asleep.

Saturday and Sunday came and went and we were beginning to worry. Could he have been shut in a neighbours shed, perhaps in a spare bedroom, was he hungry and thirsty.  We spent Sunday evening knocking on doors and the whole neighbourhood were out calling him but he didn't show up.

Monday morning the workmen arrived to inform us that they live and travel from Liverpool and stay in BB during the week. The driver of the van was distraught and very upset explaining to us that Pickle had gotten into the back of their van on Friday, traveled to Liverpool with them and when he went to remove some things from the van Saturday morning, Pickle jumped out and ran off.

I think you readers of this story understand how devastated everyone was. It was not just the workmen, our neighbours and friends but also everyone at my school pupils and teachers who had all at some point had some experience of Pickle.

 He had after all jumped through a high window to remove cakes from a school bag, which was recently cooked by Alison in Domestic Science.  He was in and out in a flash. The teacher who fought to hold onto her handbag when Pickle decided that he wanted it and Pickle had won, the games teacher who spent  the hour, chasing Pickle to retrieve the tennis balls, the tuck shop prefects who went to open  a box of blue ribond wafers to have the whole box vanish in a second before their very eyes.

 Even the local butcher, who delivered Meat products to peoples door steps, which more often than not were returned to him by us after Pickle had kindly brought them home. 

Yes, this little dog was the naughtiest you could ever meet but although most cursed the day we ever brought him into our village, everyone was going to miss him terribly.

So what adventures had Pickle had before returning home?

We can only imagine.

 Read my next chapter as we follow his journey.