❤ ❤ The Adorable Debonair Darby ❤ ❤
Most dogs are oh-so-happy to be your best friend, eager to please and their world revolves around you. Not so a Scottish Terrier. They know, beyond all doubt, the world revolves around them and their mere presence blesses those who share their lives. In a way, the Scottish Terrier is the canine version of a cat. Darby epitomized those qualities although, he grudgingly allowed me to be the pack leader...most of the time.
On the morning of Sunday 28 June 1998, I happened to see a newspaper ad listing seven Scottish Terrier pups for sale. In an instant, I knew I had to have one although I had never been around a Scottie nor was I a collector of Scottie decor. Throughout the morning, I tried calling the phone number but there was no answer. Finally, shortly after noon, it was answered and I made an appointment to see them. The time dragged until, at last, I was there looking at seven nearly-identical little black butterballs. Oh, they were all so cute. How to choose between the six males? The largest was called 'Bruiser' and the family said he was the leader of the litter, first to do everything. For some reason, he didn't appeal to me. Instead I chose the slimmest of the butterballs. It must have been fate because he turned out to be the perfect dog for me…plucky and definitely not a 'push-over', content to be a floor potato but ready for a walk any time (well, not so much in the heat of summer).
The little guy did not have a name for three days while we discussed and debated. My son wanted 'Killer' or 'Jaws' while I was pushing for 'Angus' or 'Ebony'. Finally, my son suggested Darby and it clicked. Darby he certainly was.
Darby, like all Scottish Terriers, could be very stubborn. While intelligent, it would take weeks for him to obey a command consistently. Since he was the first dog I had ever trained, I believed this was normal. Whenever he learned a new command or trick, I felt so proud of him. Two more dogs, including a Lab, disproved that belief. They were eager to please and learned everything quickly. Darby seemed to be of the opinion that obeying a command or doing a trick was something I had to earn. And I suppose it was that I had to earn his respect.
He had a bucket-load of attitude! Whenever Darby was groomed, he strutted like a peacock, which earned him the moniker Adorable Debonair Darby, knowing he was the best looking dog in the world. He would watch the other dogs playing and look at them as if to say "How can they be such undignified idiots?" He, of course, was always dignified, unless there was a mud puddle to wallow in, which was hilarious to watch.
Darby hated inflated sports balls like basketballs, soccer balls and volley balls. He would growl at them and try to destroy them if they were flat enough he could get a good grip with his teeth. Tennis balls were beneath his notice; those were for the undignified idiots to chase. He also thoroughly enjoyed ‘killing' stuffed animals, ripping the stuffing out of them to eventually locate the evil squeaker to give it one good chomp and render it squeak-less. He always seemed quite pleased with himself, probably believing he had fulfilled his destiny by providing this valuable service to the world.
The game he absolutely loved to play with the other dogs was tug of war, despite both of them being larger and stronger. Watching that always brought the Scottie nickname "Diehard" to mind because he never gave up or in.
His other true love was eating – as much and as frequently as possible. His favorite foods were ice cream, peanut M&M's and grapes. Steak and chicken were pretty good, too. He even liked green beans.
Anyone who has lived with a Scottie knows about their expressive eyebrows. A quirk of an eyebrow might say "Give me that treat, uh, please" or "You've got to be kidding?" or simply "In your dreams". Both eyebrows up seemed to be saying "Is that something for me?" Relaxed eyebrows conveyed contentment and love.
Darby accompanied me on many 'graving' outings. His favorite cemeteries were those with trees so he could lie in the shade after he'd chased away all varmints and completely exploring it. He managed to sneak into a few photos each outing. Sometimes he'd just be in the background, but other times he'd decide to sniff the marker just as I clicked the shutter.
For 12 years, he seemed to know what I needed, when I needed it and just how far he could play me... It truly was a blessing to have him in my life. He was and always will be the Number One Dog in town (with the trophy and tags to prove it) but most of all, in my heart.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
After four years apart, Darby was reunited with his "brother" Monkey on 3 December 2014. They probably immediately chased their feline "sister", Spooky, who was fond of tempting them to do it, hoping they would get in trouble.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Heartfelt thanks to bill for his sponsorship of this memorial.
Most dogs are oh-so-happy to be your best friend, eager to please and their world revolves around you. Not so a Scottish Terrier. They know, beyond all doubt, the world revolves around them and their mere presence blesses those who share their lives. In a way, the Scottish Terrier is the canine version of a cat. Darby epitomized those qualities although, he grudgingly allowed me to be the pack leader...most of the time.
On the morning of Sunday 28 June 1998, I happened to see a newspaper ad listing seven Scottish Terrier pups for sale. In an instant, I knew I had to have one although I had never been around a Scottie nor was I a collector of Scottie decor. Throughout the morning, I tried calling the phone number but there was no answer. Finally, shortly after noon, it was answered and I made an appointment to see them. The time dragged until, at last, I was there looking at seven nearly-identical little black butterballs. Oh, they were all so cute. How to choose between the six males? The largest was called 'Bruiser' and the family said he was the leader of the litter, first to do everything. For some reason, he didn't appeal to me. Instead I chose the slimmest of the butterballs. It must have been fate because he turned out to be the perfect dog for me…plucky and definitely not a 'push-over', content to be a floor potato but ready for a walk any time (well, not so much in the heat of summer).
The little guy did not have a name for three days while we discussed and debated. My son wanted 'Killer' or 'Jaws' while I was pushing for 'Angus' or 'Ebony'. Finally, my son suggested Darby and it clicked. Darby he certainly was.
Darby, like all Scottish Terriers, could be very stubborn. While intelligent, it would take weeks for him to obey a command consistently. Since he was the first dog I had ever trained, I believed this was normal. Whenever he learned a new command or trick, I felt so proud of him. Two more dogs, including a Lab, disproved that belief. They were eager to please and learned everything quickly. Darby seemed to be of the opinion that obeying a command or doing a trick was something I had to earn. And I suppose it was that I had to earn his respect.
He had a bucket-load of attitude! Whenever Darby was groomed, he strutted like a peacock, which earned him the moniker Adorable Debonair Darby, knowing he was the best looking dog in the world. He would watch the other dogs playing and look at them as if to say "How can they be such undignified idiots?" He, of course, was always dignified, unless there was a mud puddle to wallow in, which was hilarious to watch.
Darby hated inflated sports balls like basketballs, soccer balls and volley balls. He would growl at them and try to destroy them if they were flat enough he could get a good grip with his teeth. Tennis balls were beneath his notice; those were for the undignified idiots to chase. He also thoroughly enjoyed ‘killing' stuffed animals, ripping the stuffing out of them to eventually locate the evil squeaker to give it one good chomp and render it squeak-less. He always seemed quite pleased with himself, probably believing he had fulfilled his destiny by providing this valuable service to the world.
The game he absolutely loved to play with the other dogs was tug of war, despite both of them being larger and stronger. Watching that always brought the Scottie nickname "Diehard" to mind because he never gave up or in.
His other true love was eating – as much and as frequently as possible. His favorite foods were ice cream, peanut M&M's and grapes. Steak and chicken were pretty good, too. He even liked green beans.
Anyone who has lived with a Scottie knows about their expressive eyebrows. A quirk of an eyebrow might say "Give me that treat, uh, please" or "You've got to be kidding?" or simply "In your dreams". Both eyebrows up seemed to be saying "Is that something for me?" Relaxed eyebrows conveyed contentment and love.
Darby accompanied me on many 'graving' outings. His favorite cemeteries were those with trees so he could lie in the shade after he'd chased away all varmints and completely exploring it. He managed to sneak into a few photos each outing. Sometimes he'd just be in the background, but other times he'd decide to sniff the marker just as I clicked the shutter.
For 12 years, he seemed to know what I needed, when I needed it and just how far he could play me... It truly was a blessing to have him in my life. He was and always will be the Number One Dog in town (with the trophy and tags to prove it) but most of all, in my heart.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
After four years apart, Darby was reunited with his "brother" Monkey on 3 December 2014. They probably immediately chased their feline "sister", Spooky, who was fond of tempting them to do it, hoping they would get in trouble.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Heartfelt thanks to bill for his sponsorship of this memorial.
❤ ❤ The Adorable Debonair Darby ❤ ❤
Most dogs are oh-so-happy to be your best friend, eager to please and their world revolves around you. Not so a Scottish Terrier. They know, beyond all doubt, the world revolves around them and their mere presence blesses those who share their lives. In a way, the Scottish Terrier is the canine version of a cat. Darby epitomized those qualities although, he grudgingly allowed me to be the pack leader...most of the time.
On the morning of Sunday 28 June 1998, I happened to see a newspaper ad listing seven Scottish Terrier pups for sale. In an instant, I knew I had to have one although I had never been around a Scottie nor was I a collector of Scottie decor. Throughout the morning, I tried calling the phone number but there was no answer. Finally, shortly after noon, it was answered and I made an appointment to see them. The time dragged until, at last, I was there looking at seven nearly-identical little black butterballs. Oh, they were all so cute. How to choose between the six males? The largest was called 'Bruiser' and the family said he was the leader of the litter, first to do everything. For some reason, he didn't appeal to me. Instead I chose the slimmest of the butterballs. It must have been fate because he turned out to be the perfect dog for me…plucky and definitely not a 'push-over', content to be a floor potato but ready for a walk any time (well, not so much in the heat of summer).
The little guy did not have a name for three days while we discussed and debated. My son wanted 'Killer' or 'Jaws' while I was pushing for 'Angus' or 'Ebony'. Finally, my son suggested Darby and it clicked. Darby he certainly was.
Darby, like all Scottish Terriers, could be very stubborn. While intelligent, it would take weeks for him to obey a command consistently. Since he was the first dog I had ever trained, I believed this was normal. Whenever he learned a new command or trick, I felt so proud of him. Two more dogs, including a Lab, disproved that belief. They were eager to please and learned everything quickly. Darby seemed to be of the opinion that obeying a command or doing a trick was something I had to earn. And I suppose it was that I had to earn his respect.
He had a bucket-load of attitude! Whenever Darby was groomed, he strutted like a peacock, which earned him the moniker Adorable Debonair Darby, knowing he was the best looking dog in the world. He would watch the other dogs playing and look at them as if to say "How can they be such undignified idiots?" He, of course, was always dignified, unless there was a mud puddle to wallow in, which was hilarious to watch.
Darby hated inflated sports balls like basketballs, soccer balls and volley balls. He would growl at them and try to destroy them if they were flat enough he could get a good grip with his teeth. Tennis balls were beneath his notice; those were for the undignified idiots to chase. He also thoroughly enjoyed ‘killing' stuffed animals, ripping the stuffing out of them to eventually locate the evil squeaker to give it one good chomp and render it squeak-less. He always seemed quite pleased with himself, probably believing he had fulfilled his destiny by providing this valuable service to the world.
The game he absolutely loved to play with the other dogs was tug of war, despite both of them being larger and stronger. Watching that always brought the Scottie nickname "Diehard" to mind because he never gave up or in.
His other true love was eating – as much and as frequently as possible. His favorite foods were ice cream, peanut M&M's and grapes. Steak and chicken were pretty good, too. He even liked green beans.
Anyone who has lived with a Scottie knows about their expressive eyebrows. A quirk of an eyebrow might say "Give me that treat, uh, please" or "You've got to be kidding?" or simply "In your dreams". Both eyebrows up seemed to be saying "Is that something for me?" Relaxed eyebrows conveyed contentment and love.
Darby accompanied me on many 'graving' outings. His favorite cemeteries were those with trees so he could lie in the shade after he'd chased away all varmints and completely exploring it. He managed to sneak into a few photos each outing. Sometimes he'd just be in the background, but other times he'd decide to sniff the marker just as I clicked the shutter.
For 12 years, he seemed to know what I needed, when I needed it and just how far he could play me... It truly was a blessing to have him in my life. He was and always will be the Number One Dog in town (with the trophy and tags to prove it) but most of all, in my heart.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
After four years apart, Darby was reunited with his "brother" Monkey on 3 December 2014. They probably immediately chased their feline "sister", Spooky, who was fond of tempting them to do it, hoping they would get in trouble.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Heartfelt thanks to bill for his sponsorship of this memorial.
Most dogs are oh-so-happy to be your best friend, eager to please and their world revolves around you. Not so a Scottish Terrier. They know, beyond all doubt, the world revolves around them and their mere presence blesses those who share their lives. In a way, the Scottish Terrier is the canine version of a cat. Darby epitomized those qualities although, he grudgingly allowed me to be the pack leader...most of the time.
On the morning of Sunday 28 June 1998, I happened to see a newspaper ad listing seven Scottish Terrier pups for sale. In an instant, I knew I had to have one although I had never been around a Scottie nor was I a collector of Scottie decor. Throughout the morning, I tried calling the phone number but there was no answer. Finally, shortly after noon, it was answered and I made an appointment to see them. The time dragged until, at last, I was there looking at seven nearly-identical little black butterballs. Oh, they were all so cute. How to choose between the six males? The largest was called 'Bruiser' and the family said he was the leader of the litter, first to do everything. For some reason, he didn't appeal to me. Instead I chose the slimmest of the butterballs. It must have been fate because he turned out to be the perfect dog for me…plucky and definitely not a 'push-over', content to be a floor potato but ready for a walk any time (well, not so much in the heat of summer).
The little guy did not have a name for three days while we discussed and debated. My son wanted 'Killer' or 'Jaws' while I was pushing for 'Angus' or 'Ebony'. Finally, my son suggested Darby and it clicked. Darby he certainly was.
Darby, like all Scottish Terriers, could be very stubborn. While intelligent, it would take weeks for him to obey a command consistently. Since he was the first dog I had ever trained, I believed this was normal. Whenever he learned a new command or trick, I felt so proud of him. Two more dogs, including a Lab, disproved that belief. They were eager to please and learned everything quickly. Darby seemed to be of the opinion that obeying a command or doing a trick was something I had to earn. And I suppose it was that I had to earn his respect.
He had a bucket-load of attitude! Whenever Darby was groomed, he strutted like a peacock, which earned him the moniker Adorable Debonair Darby, knowing he was the best looking dog in the world. He would watch the other dogs playing and look at them as if to say "How can they be such undignified idiots?" He, of course, was always dignified, unless there was a mud puddle to wallow in, which was hilarious to watch.
Darby hated inflated sports balls like basketballs, soccer balls and volley balls. He would growl at them and try to destroy them if they were flat enough he could get a good grip with his teeth. Tennis balls were beneath his notice; those were for the undignified idiots to chase. He also thoroughly enjoyed ‘killing' stuffed animals, ripping the stuffing out of them to eventually locate the evil squeaker to give it one good chomp and render it squeak-less. He always seemed quite pleased with himself, probably believing he had fulfilled his destiny by providing this valuable service to the world.
The game he absolutely loved to play with the other dogs was tug of war, despite both of them being larger and stronger. Watching that always brought the Scottie nickname "Diehard" to mind because he never gave up or in.
His other true love was eating – as much and as frequently as possible. His favorite foods were ice cream, peanut M&M's and grapes. Steak and chicken were pretty good, too. He even liked green beans.
Anyone who has lived with a Scottie knows about their expressive eyebrows. A quirk of an eyebrow might say "Give me that treat, uh, please" or "You've got to be kidding?" or simply "In your dreams". Both eyebrows up seemed to be saying "Is that something for me?" Relaxed eyebrows conveyed contentment and love.
Darby accompanied me on many 'graving' outings. His favorite cemeteries were those with trees so he could lie in the shade after he'd chased away all varmints and completely exploring it. He managed to sneak into a few photos each outing. Sometimes he'd just be in the background, but other times he'd decide to sniff the marker just as I clicked the shutter.
For 12 years, he seemed to know what I needed, when I needed it and just how far he could play me... It truly was a blessing to have him in my life. He was and always will be the Number One Dog in town (with the trophy and tags to prove it) but most of all, in my heart.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
After four years apart, Darby was reunited with his "brother" Monkey on 3 December 2014. They probably immediately chased their feline "sister", Spooky, who was fond of tempting them to do it, hoping they would get in trouble.
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Heartfelt thanks to bill for his sponsorship of this memorial.
