Jack is definitely a dog's dog. He's not some frou-frou perfumed poodle (not that there's anything wrong with that) who gets his nails done and his ears tied up with ribbons in the dog-ears (isn't that clever?) hairstyle that seemed to be popular in Hillmomba elementary school in the formative years of Little Future Mrs. Hillbilly Mom and her sister The Little Future Ex-Mayor's Wife.
Jack gets down and dirty. He's always on the go, and always feels the need to cool off with a dip in the readily-available waterways of Hillmomba. Farmer H said that on Friday, he took the Gator down to the creek, and Juno and Copper and Jack all got in. "Of course, Juno and Copper were wading up the creek, drinking, and Jack was paddling as fast as he could go to keep up." Indeed. Juno's feathery leg fur was wet, and her belly bottom, but Jack was wet all over except his head.
There's nothing Jack likes better after a good swim in the creek or neighbor's pond or plastic cat-litter-tray swimming pool or green-watered fake fishless pond than a good wallow in a dust puddle. Except that yesterday and today, the dust puddle was a mud puddle. Jack didn't let that dampen his joy. Come to think of it, Jack took joy in dampening himself.
I've got a hunch that we won't see him clean until winter. Even if I had thought about bringing him in the Mansion for a while during Farmer H's trip to Sweden...something tells me Farmer H might notice some evidence.
Besides...Jack needs to be outside. He has a lot of energy. There are moles to be dug up, neighbor dogs to wrestle, and cats to hump.