"If I would ever meet Jack Johnson I would seriously kiss him, like big sweaty, tung, long kiss.", says my cousins boyfriend. No wonder they named their dog Jack.
Most of the time (down in Arizona) is spent caring for this animal. Tell ya the truth, I'm not a big dog person....well animal person. Though I am kinda' growing on little Jack. Only confusing part is my cousins boyfriend's name is Jake, and his dogs name is Jack....such an easy slip.
Best part about animals, the stories. (hands down)
A week ago, Jake and Deni (my cousin, she goes to ASU in Flasgtaff, they live together in an apartment) had woke up to Jack whining. Jack (who was in his kennel in their bedroom because there is no other space) was freaking out and whining. They thought he just wanted to get out and decided to be tuff parents, so they (tried) wait him out.
Two hours later they were at their wits end. They both had a test the next morning and Jack would not let up. So, Jake got up and opened the kennel. Jack race up onto the bed, jumped around for a second and then raced into the corner of the room.
SPLWASHOSH! (a.k.a the sound of diarrhea)
You need to remember the whole time it's dark in the bedroom.
Jake had to squeeze through the door (because the incident happened right in that corner, by the door) so he could get something to clean it up. Poor Deni was stuck in the smelly bedroom with the crazy puppy that was freaking out because he didn't know what had just happened to him. Apparently she was trying not to puke.
Their apartment smelled for the next few days, that poor dog held it for two hours, I've got to give him props.