The Story of Jenny Lind

When I moved to Arnold, I soon knew that I wanted a dog. I loved living in the silence of the forest, but that silence is of course full of noises. The sound of a raccoon, a deer, a chickoree, a Stellar's jay, a bear, maybe, would startle me, and I wanted a hint as to the noise's danger potential. A dog is perfect. They have enough sang froid to ignore the unthreatening, and enough protective sense to warn loudly of danger's approach. That was the theory, anyway, and it's just a good thing that I didn't get one of those dogs that bark at everything. I looked at the Humane Society of Calaveras County but didn't see anything that fit; I drove to Fresno to bring home Arnold - a pony sized dog who was completely untrained, and who I took back to Fresno within a few days. Then I was driving past Gene Miller's Rockyard in Avery, just down the road a mile or so from Arnold, and there was a sign that said, as I recall, "Part Jack Russell puppies, free." I also wanted a dog to give me motivation to get up and go, and I thought a Jack Russell would be perfect. And cute.

All puppies are cute. Good advice would probably be to not choose a puppy on the cuteness factor. But Jenny Lind, born September 18, 2001, at eight weeks old, stole my heart.