Scotties

You may know that I love Scotties and their blogs too!  I may have also mentioned that I grew up with two cute Scotties and my mother is a true Scottie lover.  She travels to visit us kids so she doesn't have a Scottie right now but it's because of her that the love of the Scottie has seeped into my soul. 

Robbie was our first Scottie.  He was the big boy in the litter and we drove about an hour and half from our house in NJ to upstate NY.  I will never forget my mother telling my father and I in a strong voice that we were just going to look, not take one home!  'So don't you two (my father & I) start saying you want one!'  Bwahahahaha!!!  That was funny because she was the one who loved that Robbie boy and we took him home that day.  I was sooooo happy to have a new puppy.  I was maybe 13 or 14 & I think I held that puppy the whole way home.  We signed him up for obedience classes and he didn't so well.  You see, we didn't know about the Scottie's, ahem, uh, independence streak.  Yes, that's it, independence streak.  There was a lot of correcting going on and we all tried our hand at handling Robbie.  My father took over the handling and Robbie came along, graduated and he even graduated from the Companion Dog class too.  My parents were troopers with him.  They worked hard to teach him.  We hadn't had a boy dog in a long time so we weren't used to all of his extra energy either.  He LOVED to dig.  I mean that boy dug so many holes in the back yard!  Huge holes!  Being a fantastic gardener, with amazing flowers, my mother didn't like that but he learned... eventually.

Me and Robbie (remember it was the late 80s so you must forgive the hair, etc)

When I showed Husband this picture and told him that was our dog Robbie, he said, 'Who names a dog Robbie?' in a tone that made me want to slap him.  I told him Robbie was a Scottie who needed a Scottish name.  'Oh,' he said.  I remember when I brought Robbie with me to deliver my papers on my paper route and our Scottish (from Scotland) neighbors were delighted to see a Scottie and commented that his was name was like Robbie the Glasgow Glutton.  See, we knew...

Misty came along about 3 or 4 years later.  She was a brindle girl.  Did I mention that Robbie was all black?  Anyway... I remember when we picked her up too.  She was close by home and she quickly became the queen the of the house.  And Robbie loved her.  He loved her so much that he would gladly move to the 'other' pillow when Misty wanted to lay down.  There were always two pillows right next to each other on the floor next to where my mother sits.  All Misty had to do was give him the look and he'd move over.  My mother also took Misty to school and she did really well.  I mean really!  She even got her CDX and went on to agility training.  She could pick up the only dumbbell with my mother's scent on it out of a whole bunch!  She used to get nervous in the ring.  Poor Misty, I wonder what bugged her about that.  Anyway, when Robbie & Misty went out in the yard, Misty would bolt out the door first, then stop at the top of the deck stairs, turn and wait for Robbie.  Then down into the yard they'd go and bark for all the neighbors to know they were out and ferocious.  These two had a special bond. 

Well, you know the years passed and the dogs got older.  Poor Robbie started to have seizures and bloody noses.  The vet didn't know why and he was 13 years old and it would cost thousands of dollars to find out.  My parents never had that kind of money.  After many months of his seizures and bloody noses he went to the vet and over the rainbow bridge.  We all cried.  A lot.  My dad buried him in the back yard along with a number of other assorted pets that passed away over the years.  My dad always said that when he mowed that patch of grass he always said, "Hi Robbie!"  It's the life cycle, but who likes it?  I sure don't.

Perhaps the saddest part was when Misty would run out the back door to go out.  She would run out hard as she could, stop at the top of the steps and turn and wait for Robbie who wasn't there.  Ugh... she had to be told to go down the steps, go, go it's ok, go.  Sigh....  I think she began to have separation anxiety too.  I seem to recall her chewing a hole in the wall.  That's right, right through the drywall.  I also remember a folding chair being put up on the living room chair so couldn't jump on it and then on a table by the window, thus destroying a lot of things in her path.  This is why I say Scotties are smart.  They may cause damage BUT it is only due to their sheer ingenuity to figure something out or to get someplace.  Misty's time came to go over the rainbow bridge in a rapid fashion.  She got a cold of sorts that lasted about a week.  She was 15. She was my mother's dog.  She'd do anything for my mother and my mother loved her to no end.  Very, very sad.

Me & Misty

I loved those dogs.  I loved all of our dogs.  However, those two, along with my mother's enthusiasm have instilled the love of the Scottie dog even though I don't have one.  And... finding all these lovely Scottie blogs has brought it to the forefront.

Someday I will have a Scottie - a rescue for sure.