Scottish Terrier Quotes

I introduced Putin to our Scottish terrier, Barney. He wasn't very impressed. On my next trip to Russia, Vladimir asked if I wanted to meet his dog, Koni. Sure, I said. As we walked the birch-lined grounds of his dacha, a big black Labrador came charging across the lawn. With a twinkle in his eye, Vladimir said, "Bigger, stronger, and faster than Barney." Prime Minister Stephen Harper of Canada [said], "You're lucky he only showed you his dog.

To hear, in the short space of one week, a Scottish terrier booed by an audience and President Roosevelt criticized by Charles Lindbergh was a great strain on our nerves. The props of life seem to be crumbling fast.

The dog, a black Scottish Terrier, straight off a shortbread tin, sat on her lap and she was hugging it close.

Christ. Study the roster. Study everybody’s photos,” she said. “Where’s the packing list for Earl?” Et cetera, et cetera . . . That spring, the gallery was putting up Ping Xi’s first solo show—“Bowwowwow”—and Natasha was up in arms about every little detail. She probably would have fired me sooner had she not been so busy. I tried to feign interest and mask my horror whenever Natasha talked about Ping Xi’s “dog pieces.” He had taxidermied a variety of pure breeds: a poodle, a Pomeranian, a Scottish terrier. Black Lab, Dachshund. Even a little Siberian husky pup. He’d been working on them for a long time. He and Natasha had grown close since his cum paintings had sold so well. During the installation, I overheard one of the interns whispering to the electrician. “There’s a rumor going around that the artist gets the dogs as puppies, raises them, then kills them when they’re the size he wants. He locks them in an industrial freezer because that’s the most humane way to euthanize them without compromising the look of the animal. When they thaw, he can get them into whatever position he wants.

A CANINE EULOGY TO THE TITANIC: The ship’s log says that twelve dogs boarded The Titanic Airedales a King Charles Spaniel Fox Terrier Chow Chow a Poodle French Bulldog Great Dane a Newfoundland. Two Pomeranians and a Pekingese were smuggled off in lifeboats concealed in blankets a Scottish Deerhound de-boarded moments before leaving port the captain returning the dog to his young daughter. One woman lived the rest of her life haunted by the memory of her Poodle clinging to her pajamas as she left her cabin. The rip of fabric. The panicked cry. The scritch of nails on the wood of the cabin door. Another left a lifeboat after being told her Great Dane was too large to be permitted to join her. Their bodies were found, days later. The woman frozen, still clutching her dog. Who made the right choice?

Despite Grumblethorpe's noises of disapproval, Esme knew she liked the family pets.She just did't approve of having so many of them in her mistress's bedroom at once. Still, it was an old battle and one the lady's maid had given up waging long ago. Good thing too, since four of Esme's six cats- who had all started life in either Braebourne stables or as strays she'd rescued- were snoozing in various locations around her room. They included a big orange male, Tobias, who was curled up in a cozy spot in the middle of her bed; Queen Elizabeth- a sweet-natured tabby, who was lounging in her usual window seat; Mozart- a luxuriously coated white longhair who luckily loved being brushed; and Naiad, a one-eyed black female, whom Esme had rescued from drowning as a kitten. Her other two cats, Persephone and Ruff, were out and about, seeing to their own cat business. As for the dogs, Burr lay stretched out on the hearthrug in front of the fireplace. He snored gently, clearly tired after their recent adventures. And joining him in the land of dreams was dear old Henry, a brindle spaniel who was curled up inside a nearby dog bed lined with plush pillows that helped cushion his aging joints. Handel and Haydn, a pair of impish Scottish terriers, were absent. She suspected they were on the third floor playing with her increasingly large brood of nieces and nephews. The dogs loved the children.

Scottish terriers are bred to kill rodents,

A Scotsman once wrote that “the real Scottish terrier has the most characteristic facial expression. Jock is a thinker, philosopher, and seer . . . there should be a cast of thought upon his face even when he is a puppy and knows naught of men and dogs and things from personal experience.” You had the cast of thought upon your puppy face, but your philosophy was one of beaming approval of the world in which you found yourself.

I have known many breeds, — Irish Terriers, Airedales, Blue Bedlingtons, Collies, Spaniels, Yorkshires, English Bulldogs, — but it seems to me that the Scottish terrier has the most generous charm of all. Nature was liberal to him in giving him the heart of a big dog in a body so compact and small that he might be the perfect companion indoors and out.