Written by Jenni Davies, who also supplied the photographs
When I picked up a scruffy stray dog from a shopping mall, I had no idea he’d go on to completely change my life.
A lost pets Facebook page had posted that security guards at a mall near where I worked had found a dog and someone needed to pick him up and take him to the veterinary practice, or they’d have to turf him out at closing time. The plan was that he’d then go to the SPCA. I volunteered to fetch him.
I clearly remember the moment I walked into that security office and saw this adorable little scrappy-doo come trotting around the corner – he came right up to me and stood up with his paws on my legs, completely trusting (I know now that this is one of his favourite methods of manipulation…). I was absolutely smitten. But, his owners needed to be found and, anyway, we weren’t even thinking of another dog, with our old dog, Holly, aged 13, being very unwell.
He was a bit underweight and covered in ticks, but otherwise in good shape and, as arranged, I took him to the vet. But he didn’t get to the SPCA; instead, another animal rescue centre took him in which happened to be one that I often visited as part of animal welfare volunteering I did with another organisation. I couldn’t get this little dog out of my mind and, because I visited the rescue centre regularly, I took to visiting him. He was so endearing, so happy to follow the centre’s director to check on other animals, undaunted by donkeys and cattle. He was a strong-willed little guy and he won over hearts, despite his great enjoyment of leading the kennel staff a merry dance around whenever he managed to find a way out and didn’t want to come back. (Ten years later and he still has the heart of a free-spirited explorer, despite having had “the snip” soon after his arrival at the centre.)
His owner was traced via the lost pet page – it turned out that he’d actually been found as a stray before; the owners were never found and the finder rehomed him. When the kennel manager at the centre phoned the person who’d taken him, they said they actually didn’t want him and he could be rehomed. I was gobsmacked: who wouldn’t want such an adorable little dog!? I decided that, if, when our Holly passed away, this little guy – who’d been named Benji – was still waiting, it was meant to be. Small-breed wire-haired scruffy dogs like this tend not to stay at shelters long, so I figured, if he was actually still there, then it was meant to be. About seven months later, our old girl crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and we were absolutely heartbroken.
But, amazingly, Benji was still available. It was a Saturday after I’d finished my volunteer work for the day and my colleague and I went past the rescue centre to fetch my boy. I’ll never forget the moment he was placed in my arms – he gave me a big lick on my cheek and looked at me like: “What took you so long?” I adopted him at a really difficult time in my life and he absolutely saved my sanity.
It’s been almost ten years since that day and I only love this quirky little guy more each day. I’ve never met a dog like him before – he’s so incredibly expressive (he literally sulks if you upset him!) and intensely emotional. If he’s happy, he’s ecstatic; if he’s sad, he’s absolutely tragic. He’s generally well-behaved but can be very stubborn, needy, pretty cheeky, and he’s wary of strangers. He’s very defensive/protective/possessive (call it what you will) and extremely loyal to me, which can be problematic at times, but we keep working on it. If I’m sad, he immediately knows, and on tough days, he’ll creep into my arms at night and stay there until morning.
He’s also still got a real wanderlust, not because he’s not happy where he is, but because everything interests him and he gets so focused on stuff outside – we’ve had to Benji-proof the whole house as he’ll climb out of windows, scale gates, and scramble over walls if he can. He goes absolutely nuts when he sees a squirrel, rabbit, rat, mole – if it’s small and furry, he’s after it. He’s an excellent and avid hunter of small prey (to our dismay); he’s caught birds in the garden and once managed to track and dig up a mole (which we rescued from his clutches and was, thankfully, just fine).
We’ve always wondered what he could be. It seemed obvious that there was terrier – he’s intensely focused, fast, good at hunting, has a very high prey drive (except with cats – he loves cats!), and independent, and he has a typically terrier-like rough, wiry coat (he looks fluffy on pictures, but that fur is like a brush). He’s also highly intelligent – the smartest dog I’ve ever had – and learns things super-fast. Guesses like Jack Russell Terrier, Poodle, Yorkshire Terrier, Dachshund, Fox Terrier topped the list. Eventually, I just had to know…
Benji’s MuttMix results
Level 3 Border Terrier
Level 3 Pomeranian
Level 3 Norwegian Elkhound
The Border Terrier makes perfect sense as it ticks all those terrier boxes, and he has the overall build (if not the leg length). Looks-wise, though, he looks way more like a Dandy Dinmont Terrier, to which the Border Terrier is closely related. Although I don’t see any Toy Pomeranian in his appearance, the nature is very accurate (a small dog with a big personality is exactly what he is – in fact, his nickname is Napoleon!), as are the health conditions mentioned by MuttMix. As for Norwegian Elkhound – I’m not so sure about that, but MuttMix’s description of personality describes him to a tee: “They’re loyal and sensitive, and may become upset if they feel that they’ve been treated unfairly.” We’ve dubbed him the Border Elkeranian.
But, really, it doesn’t matter to me what breed he has in him – I love my little Benji just as he is.
