Chronicles of a Nigerian Owner of an American Eskimo

Before anything else, I feel I need to say this: If you came here searching for information on some liquor brand, then I’m afraid you may have been misled. Unconventional as it may sound, Jack Daniel (as far as this text is concerned) is a small, bubbly American Eskimo.

He is NOT the best dog in the world, as you will come to find as you read further. We have this unhealthy rivalry going on. And seeing as he can neither speak nor write, I am determined to deal him a few strong blows out here while hoping he does not bite the life out of my new follow-come charger.

So, here’s what you need to know about Jack Daniel Nwaeze.

“I’m the Oga of this House and You’re My Nwa Boyi“

Imagine the kid from your childhood, with chubby cheeks, who always moved around with lots of snacks in his/her backpack, and cried at the slightest touch. Yep, that’s Jack.

He is the first to be served food in this house. It doesn’t matter if I’ve eaten; if I even have food to eat. Yet, this ungrateful little boy does not touch his food. He waits for me to get some for myself. It might sound all sweet to you till you realize the only reason he’s waiting is that he wants my food. He comes for all of it. Those puppy eyes are hard to resist, so we always end up sharing my food. That’s when he runs off to get his.

And he bites my hands all day for dessert. Such a cheat. That’s how he grows so fat like he’s the oga of the house and I’m his apprentice.

“I’m the Mayor, the Sheriff, the Mother Effing President”

Jack is loud. I’m not sure you quite understand. He’s f*cking loud! When someone moves around in the backyard, he goes to ask who goes there. He doesn’t stop barking from the balcony till my ears begin to bleed.

When a car horns from the road, he goes to ask who the f*ck they think they are, disturbing the neighborhood like that.

That’s not even the most ridiculous. Wait for it. Airplanes are not allowed to fly past the house without clearance. You need to see him pushing through the rails, trying to get to a lizard, chicken, human, tricycle, or airplane.

Then, he comes to query me whenever he suspects that I’ve eaten something without his permission. He stretches to sniff my mouth.

“You don go chop, clean mouth na.”

Suspecting Nigerians

My own money o. Such audacity.

“I’m the Best Thing to Have Happened to You in the Last Year”

Yep, an entitled furry thing. He thinks the world revolves around his ass. He goes about all day, shedding like a walking cotton-producing factory. His fur is everywhere; on my clothes, in my food, in my hair. I don’t even bother anymore.

He gets bored and goes to bite the onions in the kitchen. I think he suspects that I might use him for suya if he doesn’t destroy the onions first. I don’t know who put that idea in his head, but it’s not totally wrong.

I never get to wear my white trousers twice without having to wash them. He welcomes me at the door, all jumpy and touchy. He stamps his feet on my pants like a royal seal, then goes on to ask what snack I got him.

Oh, and he’s always picking fights he can’t win. Whether it’s a cockroach, a cat, or an innocent, unsuspecting human, he picks a fight with them out of boredom. He knows I will intervene and finish the fight for him. One of these days, I’ll leave him to get his ass kicked. He needs to learn that life is not easy for a man.

“Small Biting that I Bit Your Shoes and You’re Angry. Oya, Sorry”

Jack understands everything I say to him. People think it’s funny when I speak to him in Igbo. What they don’t understand is that it’s not as much the words as it is the tone.

Of course, he knows basic phrases like come here, go down, come and take (his favourite), sit, go this way, stop… Everything else, he deduces from my tone. He knows when he’s done something wrong, when to keep his distance (to avoid a slip of hand), when to squeeze behind my legs and apologize.

He believes he has my mumu button. So, he smiles and thinks of interesting new ways to screw up. Because, what else is there to do?

Oh, and if you ever got a text from me saying, “I love you. Be my girlfriend,” this is me clearing the air. I did not send that text. Jack did. He does stuff with my phone when I’m not looking.

The other day, I saw chats of him flirting with Wendy– our neighbour’s Eskimo, almost two years older than him. Of course, I deleted the chats and scattered the relationship.

Small boy that I carried when he was a pup wants to start doing xdggv, while I’m still single. You go buy your own phone o.

by Di MadWriter