Category Archives: Tributes to much loved Scotties

Tributes to much loved Scotties. RIP.

A tribute to Taffy, the middle dog

Last July, the Scottie News published a tribute to Teresa and family’s beloved Tallulah.

Sadly, Teresa — who said that “some of the remarks we received on that tribute really warmed my heart” — has lost another cherished dog in March. She writes:

Last week, we lost the second of our three girls, Taffy. She was 15.5 and really slowing down, but the end was very sudden. After she suffered two grand mal seizures in three hours, our wonderful vet met us in his office in the middle of the night to help Taffy over the bridge.

She was the dowager queen of our household, the rescue who came from a puppy mill to enrich our lives. I think of her as the embodiment of love and patience overcoming the worst start possible to a life. From the day we met her, she melted into our touch. She was a “leaner,” as if she could not have enough human contact, and the only one of our three with a true Scottie “a-rooooo.”

She’s in the middle of the picture above just as she plopped herself in the middle of our lives and hearts. Our blondies are gone and missed so very much. We are blessed that our Ruby-girl, at 12, is in great health, and praying it stays that way for a long time.

RIP, Taffy.

Tributes: RIP, Tallulah, “dog of my heart”

tally looking upTeresa writes:

Tally Irish crossed the Rainbow Bridge last week and my life will never be the same. She was the little dog of my heart in a way no other dog has been. She needed me and loved me the most–and it was mutual.

Diagnosed with Demodex at 11 months, she rarely had a healthy day afterwards but managed to live LARGE for 11.5 years. Her skin was always problematic, she had Cushing’s disease, a huge heart murmur, and, ultimately, congestive heart failure took her life. Through her many health crises, she never gave up, never stopped playing, never stopped being interested in her sisters Ruby and Taffy, never stopped wanting to be with us–until the last days when the look in her eyes clearly said “Mom, help me breathe, help me.” So I did.

She was lovely and clingy and yappy at times and oh-so-smart. As far as I know, she was the world’s first and only herding Scotty. When her older sister Taffy lost her hearing, Tally taught herself (in a matter of days) to go out to the far corner of the yard and get Taffy’s attention, then nip at her heels to get her into the house. Soon, a command of “Tally, go get your sissy” would send her flying to do her job.

She also was the woobie monster of our household. ALL woobies which entered (a) belonged to her, and (b) were de-squeaked and gutted within minutes. She slept on piles of silent, flat woobies as if to say “I conquered you and now you exist solely for my comfort.”

Her littermate Ruby is as lost as we are. I’m not sure they ever spent a night apart until July 18. At 11.5 years of age, we must watch her carefully so that she does not slip away from a broken heart. Our almost-15-year-old Taffy seems less shaken, probably because she sleeps most of the time now.

RIP Tallulah. I know you’re perfect now and I can’t wait to see your beautiful wheaten coat shining in the sun someday.

Tributes: RIP, Donovan

John Livingstone writes:

Very few men got to be friends with Donovan. He was particular in who he thought was of enough character to approach him. Those who could were treated to a 100% loving acceptance type attitude. Those who couldn’t… need not apply. I was one of the lucky ones, as a matter of fact, I was one of maybe four men who he shared his world with. Women were usually a different matter. He was a ladies scot that relished his lovins’ from the female world.

Now when it came to ‘scottitude’, Donovan had his share. Often times he would let you know he was paying attention to what you were doing by ignoring you. Not like Ms. Maddie though. Oh, he would take a quick peek back towards your direction as you begged for attention, but then he would do the 1,000 yard stare. He knew you were there, ready to scratch and love, but he also knew you needed to wait, just a few moments longer.

Donovan showed his LOVE for his human momma Shelby by using her as a seat cushion lots of times. Most often we got to see that when we were on our camping trips. I guess you can see a lot more from a higher vantage point (especially one that would keep scratching and petting as long as you sit there). From there, squirrels were simply low hanging fruit to Donovan. As a captain peering from the wheelhouse, he would sit on Shelby’s lap or on the back deck and scan the horizon for the enemy. I’m pretty sure he never got Christmas cards from the backyard squirrels, nor love letters either.

Donovan was siblings with ‘big sis’ Maddie, and was ‘big bro’ to our Maggie. His squirrel hunting buddy Marley was his first in command and his backup was Chaplin. Those three scotties were responsible for the rescue of a ton of other scotties so you might say, he was a big brother to a huge extended clan.

He was a linebacker type scottie but moved like a lightning flash. He was the picture of what a male scottie could be, even should be. Big broad back, piercing dark brown eyes and a chest just made for rubbing. He never was a complainer, never a whiner, always ready for more… and he had cancer. You can’t imagine the shock of finding out that he wasn’t healthy. He was not healthy at all. As I said, he never complained, never made out that he wasn’t well, he just went through life like it would never end. Unfortunately, the cancer was too much and time was too little. Even though you get almost 12 years, you always want 12 more, at least…

Everything possible was done to help him. Trips to UT School of Veterinarian Medicine, trips to several local vets, prayer chains, treatment options… everything anyone with a scottie would try. He even had got a custom-made catheter bag which he carried by means of his harness. He was styling, profiling and thought he was too cool. The hard part was letting him go. Donovan loved his Shelby and Doug, loved his other scotties that he spent his days in the backyard with and loved his entire extended scottie clan.

He is better now, rested up and ready for those pesky squirrels that made it to heaven I’m sure. His cancer a long gone memory, his pain and suffering no more. I also have no doubt he’s found a lap or two from which to wait and watch for his human mamma Shelby.

So long Big D, leave Heaven’s doggie door open… we miss you!

Signed… the aaaAAARRRrrooOOOoo Crew

RIP, Donovan

RIP, Lovely LuLu, mom to Bridget and so much more

Lulu taken May 16 2012 - her last photo
LuLu taken May 16 2012 - her last photo

Julie pays tribute to her dog LuLu, who she didn’t realize has a special connection to the Scottie News. Lovely LuLu, as she was officially known, was my dog Bridget’s mother. Here’s her story:

LuLu was a retired breeding dog, and upon researching and falling in love with the Scottish terrier breed, I visited the Mucklewags’ website looking for a puppy. Never did I think about adopting an adult! Their advertisement called Lou “Quite contemplative at times and staying outside long after all the other dogs had come in” – I fell in love with the description and quickly called to make an appointment to meet her.

Upon arriving to a “sea of Scotties” we spoke long about adopting an adult Scottie, and about the breed! She would be MY first dog, though I have grown up around dogs my whole life. There was a playful little chomper alongside Lulu who I found out was Flora, Lulu’s pup. The breeder was keeping her to have litters. She was only six months old.

Long story short, five days later, we took home Lulu AND Flora together! Flora was purchased on a breeding contract, to be returned when she was in heat and to have puppies. Our family was overjoyed. Lulu and Flora played nonstop and did EVERYTHING together, including chasing birds, squirrels, cats and all the wild vermin in our area. I remember Lulu bringing me a robin one day, presenting it to me – I nearly threw up but gave her a pat on the head and told her what a good girl she was for catching the bird.

I refer to Lulu as my “gentle giant”. She was 30 pounds of LOVE! She was my shadow and followed me everywhere. Always eager for snuggles and cuddles, it was quite common to see me on the couch with Lulu sleeping on my belly, and Flora snuggling up at my feet. She LOVED to sit outside and stare at the scenery. I totally agree she was one contemplative dog and wish I could have known what she was thinking.

She also did what we called her “3 legged dance”. Every time she got excited about someone coming home, or going for a walk, she would lift her front paw in the air and dance around on the other 3 paws. It was quite comical!

Just last month she acquired an injury and had trouble walking, we still aren’t sure if it was her legs or her back, as she was quite a stoic dog, not showing much of any pain (I recall a time when the groomer clipped the tip of her ear and had no idea until she saw blood! Lulu never yelped). The vet recommended cortisone, and it was during this therapy we found her quietly sleeping on the floor one afternoon. She was gone, at the young age of 7. Upon researching, I am beginning to wonder if she had undiagnosed Cushing’s syndrome, complicated from the cortisone. The symptoms can be quite subtle, and unless you are really watching, can be missed.

Rest in peace my gentle giant. You will forever be remembered as my first love.

RIP Scottie, taken by cancer when he was far too young

Scottie as a puppy
Scottie as a puppy
Scottie all grown up
Scottie all grown up

Samantha asked the Scottish Terrier and Dog Newsto do a memorial for her dog Scottie who died last week. She wrote:

I would really appreciate and be forever grateful, if you would please share Scottie’s story as a memorial for this brave little soul and also to raise cancer awareness to other Scottie owners. Cancer is much more prominent in Scotties then other breeds.

He was a wonderful Scottie and the smartest dog I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was sweet, charming, energetic, loving, obedient, and just always brought a smile to his families faces. He would talk to us and respond when we would talk to him. He loved helping us hunt for mice and was so joyous when he caught one the first and only time, he strutted around the house for days just as proud as can be. He was and always will be my best friend. I would sit on the stairs every morning before school and share a peanut butter sandwich with him. He is going to be deeply missed and I do not think our hearts will ever stop aching for him.

Scottie has been battling Melanoma Cancer for 6 months now, he is only 4 years old… It all started out around October 2011, Scottie had a dime sized growth on his knee. We took him to the vet, he and said to not pay much attention to it unless it started to grow or bother Scottie or us. So we left it alone and watched it. It started irritating Scottie and growing. We took him back to the vet in November, the doctor removed it with out doing on autopsy first or checking a sample under the microspore. We then did not know any better. Before his stitches completely healed, another growth started, but was growing very rapidly along with multiple pea sized growths going up to his leg to the base of his abdomen. We immediately took him back to the vet, it was around late November. He would not tell us what it was and told us we had to go to a specialist. He referred us to an oncologist. We got in early December, she took a sample and looked at it under the scope – melanoma cancer was the diagnosis. She told us with how aggressive it is we really did not have much time left or many treatments we could do. Most of the treatments take 6-8 weeks to even get into the system and another couple of weeks to start helping, if we removed his leg it would barley heal and the cancer would possible only spread faster when opened up. She also told us, that no matter which road we take there is only an extremely small chance any of them will help. She recommended we let Scottie live a more fulfilled shorter life and put Scottie on Remedol.

Scottie did very well at first, the Remedol slowed the cancers growth and he was his wonderful little self for many months. This month has not been the case. The Remedol stopped working because Melanoma evolves and learns how to get around medications and treatments. The Melanoma has become immune to the medication. All we could to for Scottie when this happened was make him as comfortable as possible and enjoy every good day we have with him.

RIP, Scottie. Our sympathies go out to Samantha and our family.

Here is a resource site on Scottish Terriers and cancer.

Two heartfelt tributes to much loved Scottish Terriers

John tells the story of Pierre much better than anyone else.

The late great Huckleberry the Scottish Terrier
The late, great Huckleberry

And Bob writes about Huckleberry, who graced the Scottie News with his presence on more than occasion:

We had to let Huckleberry Finn go on to meet his destiny.. The last of the original Cape Cod scottie group is now gone.His chest cavity was being flooded  so he couldn’t breathe so we had no choice but to let him go. he wasthe only Scottie who was mine alone and I had a hard time letting him go,, he used to go with me to many art and craft shows with me and he always was the best salesman and I will never forget when we went to Provincetown and people hung out of windows wanting to know who he was . I will miss him so…. of all the Scotties in my life he touched me the most…After all the rescue Scotties I didn’t think I could feel this way….

RIP, Pierre and Huck.

Tributes: Shalimar of Estonia, multi-culti Scottish Terrier extrordinaire

Shalimar, Scottish Terrier from EstoniaMai writes:

I lost my Scottie a couple of days ago and as a long time follower of Scottie News I know that you publish pictures/stories from people who send them to you. So, I was thinking,perhaps one of the pictures I send you would be worthy enough to be published at your site because it would mean a world to my family and especially to me because I’m working away from home so I wasn’t able to be part of the funeral. Yep, that’s what I call it because my brother built him a box and they put his favourite toy, treats and blanket with him when they buried him to a land of a family member.

None of the pictures are wonderful and can never do justice to my doggy who was a true gentleman. Stubborn, yes (but what Scottie isn’t?), but at the same time he was one of best dogs a girl can have because he was incredibly friendly and with such a gentle character. Using words of my mum, if there’s a paradise for dogs then Shalimar will definitely go there. He was such a sweetheart! He was just 12 but he had a cancer and in the end his kidneys stopped working so it was time to let him go.

RIP, Shalimar.

More on the death of Chief the Scottie

The Iowa newspaper, the Hawkeye, provides details and raises questions about Chief the Scottish Terrier’s sudden death.

Chief’s family has also put together a tribute video.

Rocky Creek Scotties has more including the email addresses of those responsible for investigating crimes against animals and prosecuting the perpetrators. Here as well is the Scottie Newsprevious story about Chief.

RIP, Simon the Scottish Terrier

Karen Clarke wrote to the Scottie News yesterday to tell us that she was featured ministering to a dying Scottish Terrier on the front page of Sunday’s Lincoln (Nebraska) Journal Star. Simon the Scottie belonged to a very good friend of hers.

Here’s the opening of the article:

So there she was — a 57-year-old Benedictine nun-turned-chemist-turned Protestant pastor — sprawled on her belly in a 4-foot-deep closet conversing with Simon.

The 13-year-old Scottish terrier had lived a long life, often relaxing in the shade among the backyard hostas. But now he was having problems, and the Rev. Karen Clarke sensed he was afraid — that he knew the end was near.

His cancer spreading, Simon retreated to the closet corner and huddled beneath a rack of blue jeans and plaid shirts. During thunderstorms, he often hid there. But this time, he wasn’t there because of the rain.

“Simie, I know it’s time for you to go,” Clarke whispered in the dark closet as she scooted past the long dresses, inching closer to the terrier. “Will you come out so I can help you?”

Simon obliged.

Read the rest of this story.

RIP, Simon.