By SHELLEY TERRY - Staff Writer - sterry@starbeacon.com
Delightful Granddaughter took Darwin to school Thursday for show and tell.
Faithful readers will recall Darwin is our one-eyed Jack Russell terrier.
Delightful Granddaughter and Darwin share a mutual love for one another. Until just a few months ago, my granddaughter planned to marry him. Granddaughter called off the engagement when a first-grade classmate convinced her it was illegal to marry a dog.
Teacher instructed me to bring Darwin at 9:20 a.m.
Granddaughter wanted to keep Darwin’s appearance “hush-hush” to surprise her classmates. She met me in the office and then took the dog to the playground.
Teacher led all of the students outside, forming a large circle around Granddaughter and Darwin. The excitement scared Darwin a bit.
The little girls said, “Aahh, he’s cute. What happened to his eye?”
The little boys said, “Cool. He only has one eye.”
Granddaughter shared the sad tale of Darwin’s accident:
Two years ago, when Darwin was still a puppy, he ran out of the house and into the road. Hubby thought he had the screen door latched, but it was not latched tight. A big truck ran over Darwin. The pup hovered on the verge of death and his future looked bleak. Brain damage was an issue, as was the loss of an eye and loss of the use of a hind leg.
A week later, the eye was removed, and within a few weeks, the brain healed itself and today he’s a wild and crazy (and lovable) dog. His legs and everything else are just fine.
Granddaughter told her classmates of her big plans to take Darwin to Animal Planet’s “Pet Star” in Hollywood. Darwin plays catch, fetch and hide-and-seek with a tennis ball.
Teacher suggested she show the class some of Darwin’s tricks.
A tennis ball was produced and I hoped Darwin would perform in front of his eager audience.
Of course, he didn’t — at least not right away.
So, I took command of the situation.
I unleashed Darwin and I threw the ball as hard as I could toward the back woods of the playground. Like a bullet, Darwin was off! The children cheered. Darwin picked up the ball and ran — the other way.
“Oh no,” I cried. “Darwin!”
Around and around Darwin leaped, jumped and ran like a deer along the grassy, outer perimeter of the playground.
Teacher hurried to shut the fence, fearing he would escape. Meanwhile, the children laughed and laughed.
For a moment, Darwin’s gait slowed, and with all eyes on him, he left a little present for the children before regaining his second wind.
A few more laps around the playground and he returned to Granddaughter’s side, but without the ball.
Looking a bit frazzled, Teacher thanked Darwin for the show and asked Granddaughter to find the ball. But none of us knew where in the tall grass the crazed hound left it.
I grabbed Darwin’s collar, looked him in the eye and said, “Darwin, go get the ball. Get the ball.”
He ran past the slide, up the hill and retrieved it, proving he really knows a trick or two.
Vindicated, my delightful granddaughter hugged Darwin good-bye.
I don’t believe we will ever forget the day Darwin went to school.
Staff writer Shelley Terry is too young to remember when “Darwin” was not allowed in public schools.
