Mary and Joe are living the American dream. They have worked hard at their careers and now have two beautiful children, a boy and a girl, two nice new cars, a large two-story house in a golf course community. Everything they have worked so hard for has finally come to fruition. They are the perfect family.

Shortly after the birth of their second child, Joe decided the kids needed a pet to grow up with. Mary agreed, but thought a small dog would be preferred. A large one that might be more than they could handle. It would have to be a very special dog; after all they couldn’t have a common type dog.

Mary and Joe didn’t really know where to start their shopping for a dog, but of course, Mary knew about the very best of stores; and decided on one particular ritzy pet shop. All the ”best people,” must get their dogs there, she rationalized. So off they went to the fancy pet store.

The staff was very helpful, pointing out all the good qualities of their expensive pups.

Mary was very taken with one puppy in particular, a darling Black Scottish terrier. Pat, the salesperson, was once again most helpful. He explained that Scotties are small and very distinguished looking, fairly rare and quite suitable for their family. Neither Mary nor Joe thought to ask any questions; after all, they were buying the most expensive dog from the best pet store they knew of.

Hello, my name is Jackson, named after someone really important, I am sure! I remember the day my new family brought me home three years ago. It had been a long journey, on the way the pet store, in a dark, hot, smelly truck. I was so glad to get back into a crate where at least there was light and air! Lots of people had come by to see me. They rapped at the window and woke me continually, but that was okay, I was just so happy to have some attention. I missed my mommy and all my brothers and sis, and I was so bored. I needed someone to play with so badly.

Then the magical day arrived. This nice man and women seemed to like me at lot; they took me out of the crate and had a long discussion with Pat. I really liked Pat, he would feed me and give me water, but he wasn’t much for playing. I sat up pretty for the lady and tilted my little head trying my best to be charming. It must have worked, too, because they took me home that very day. I was so happy!! Mary let me ride home on her lap, all the time purring sweetly to me. Oh the joy, to my own amazement, I now knew the stories were true. There really were real homes for all the pups my kennel produced! Oh, if only I could see all those other pups again… I wonder what great homes they found?

Once home, I was introduced to my new human brother and sister. I had never seen humans this small but they were great. They allow me to run and chase them all over the house. I feel so very loved and overjoyed with my new life. I am one lucky dog!

Sometimes when I am playing with the kids we get a little out of control. I am running and nipping at them and just having a great time. They will pull my tail and pick me up by whatever they can grab. It’s a great game. Every once in awhile they grab my front leg and it really hurts a lot. I yip and Mom makes everyone settle down. It’s a good thing, because I need to stop playing for a while. My leg hurts for a bit, but after resting in my crate for a few hours, I am ready to play again.

It must be hard raising kids because there sure is a lot of yelling going on. I mark my protest with much barking, but it doesn’t seem to help. What do I know; I am still just a pup. I am trying very hard to be a good boy, but so often I am confused. I don’t mean to make them angry. I know they have a lot to deal with. They must, I hear the children cry when they hit them and I try to console the children, but I really don’t understand. What is all this clatter? I wish I understood this crazy language of the humans. Maybe someday, they will learn to talk doginese, Meanwhile, I will just keep trying to figuring it out; squeak, squeak, squeak, they say.

Some days are so much fun. My favorite thing is to take my Mom and Dad for a walk. We go everywhere, and we visit with lots of neighbors, who are very impressed! They say, “what a good-looking dog”. “What breed is he?” “Oh, A Scottish Terrier, how special.” “Is he good with the kids?” “Is he housebroken yet?” I still haven’t figured out what they are talking about. What is house breaking? Is this a good thing?

It’s the funniest thing, and something that really confuses me. Sometimes, I like to leave my mark around, ya know. Everywhere we go I smell where the other dogs have marked, so it must be a good thing. But when I do this at home, my new family gets very upset with me. Don’t they understand I am only doing what I am supposed to do? Maybe they will catch on; after all they have only had a year to learn doginese.

I live in the moment, and so cannot be too concerned about the time I am left alone. I know my family will come home, and spend time with me later. I must stay in my crate for many hours because Mom says I can’t be trusted. I am a good boy, aren’t I? I just wish I could understand what my job is; I want to help out and do my part around here. What is this gibberish they speak; why can’t they understand me? I am starting to pick up some of their strange language. It all just sounds like squeak squeak squeak, to me, most of the time. But I am learning some of their words.

Here lately I have started to be a bit upset. No one plays with me much anymore, not that I am complaining, you understand. I am always available for some fun, but the kids are always going off some where to ball games, and classes, etc. They really don’t need to be bothered with me; I know they are really busy. Mom says she has about had it with my marking. I am giving up hope that she will ever learn. She keeps yelling at me and hits me; it really hurts my feelings. I want so badly to please her and to have fun again. Have I done something wrong? I am trying to be a good boy.

In this last couple of years my kids have gotten so big. They sure are growing up. I’m glad I am not a human child, because it must be really hard. You have to get up early and go to school, and then tons of classes and sports events that must be attended. Just so busy all the time. Mom is always rushing everybody, and screaming about being late for something or another. No time for a little buddy like me, I still spend most of my time in the crate, but I am a big boy now. All grown up, and quite the handsome lad, if I do say so myself.

Hey, I learned a really very special thing today, quite by accident. Mom yelled and smacked me for marking, and this time, I growled at her. I don’t know why I did it, maybe just frustration, but she stopped dead in her tracks and left me alone. Maybe she has finally caught on! Could it be that I have finally made her understand? Oh, life can be so good when they finally understand you are doing what you are suppose to do. Why can’t they understand doginese? I suppose they don’t need to learn my talk, they have their family and all their friends to talk to.

I overheard this big discussion tonight. (Squeak, squeak). I did pick up on few words. I seems Mom and Dad think it is a bad thing that I growled. OH DEAR, just when I thought this was a good thing. I held my head down in the crate and felt so very lonely. Maybe I just need to be a little bit stronger. I have got to get the message across somehow.

Every year at this time, I go to visit my vet. They check me over and talk real sweet to me. It is pretty fun until the shots come out and then, ouch, that hurts for moment. I made sure this time to let them know I did not appreciate getting stuck. I growled at the vet and his assistant. They picked up on my meaning right away. Vets must be smart people. Then they were telling Mom something about a patella problem. Don’t know what that is about but it didn’t sound really like a good thing, and behavioral training??? Not for ME? No, the vet clearly must have been referring to them.

When was it that I forgot about trying to be a good boy? Somewhere down the road, I think I must have forgotten about that. It seemed so hopeless; I just couldn’t seem to please my people. One day Mom came in and caught me marking, she went nuts, and well, I guess I went nuts too. I bit her. I felt terrible, but it may be for the best because now, Mom and Dad let me do whatever I want.

A bit confused here but I am willing to rise to the situation. It’s not easy to raise oneself to the alpha position, but if that is what is required, I will make the effort. Mom and Dad really must need some help because they have turned over this position to me. They allow me to make all the decisions. I am in charge. In a matter of time, they are completely afraid of me, because I am the strong one! Finally now, I understand what my job is!

Just the other day, my entire family gathered in the front yard with me on a leash. I thought we were going to have a fun walk, but no, we just waited. There was a lot of tension in the air and a lot of whispers. What was this all about? What were we all waiting for? Everyone was sad, and they were softly talking to me. More of the squeak, squeak, squeak. What were they saying and why was everyone so sad? I had a very bad feeling about all of this. I wanted to go for a walk, and was about to get worked up into a fit when a car pulled up.

This lady was speaking with my family, but I could tell she was mostly looking at me. She told me she was going to take me for a ride and that everything would be okay. So I hopped into her car, and away we went. I liked this lady and the car; every thing smelled like other dogs, it made me feel happy.

I knew instinctively that things in my life had changed as soon as we arrived. Where was I, and where was my family? There were other dogs here, and they were so different than anything I had ever known. This lady talked to them and spent time with them. I know I must sound like I am complaining. Why did they have such a grand life and I was the outcast? The lady strapped a piece of fabric on me that felt really snug, but not uncomfortable. Actually, it felt secure. She called it my bellyband.

Right off the bat I had to let them know who was in charge here and just with whom they were dealing! The house has so many great smells, it is heavenly, and every nook and cranny must be explored. The lady was following me everywhere watching me as I sniffed. I found a prime spot to mark my new territory, a potted plant sitting next to the window. With all the true Scot macho spirit and dignity I could muster, I hiked my leg high and marked the plant, while staring straight into her eyes and growled my very best defiant growl! To my horror and complete bewilderment, the lady did not yell and hit me, oh no, she just laughed at me. A second latter I realized I had just wet all over myself.

Talk about a confused little man; I really do not know what to do. This new place is really a Boot Camp! What are they trying to do to me? I had it all figured out, and now this! Life is so hard and unfair. Everyone else gets to eat before me, they have to enter the door before me and I have to sit/stay for my dinner.

Something is really very wrong. Don’t they know who I am? I bit her hard tonight; she deserved it treating me this way! Whatever was she thinking? Funny thing, it did not have the effect I thought it would. She fusses over the other dogs, but now I am shunned. I don’t like being left out like this. Very humbly, I decided to let her pet me again, and we had a little talk. I think she can understand my doginese.

She tells me she is the alpha in charge here and that there will be no more biting. I really kind of like this. What a relief. I do not have to be the one in charge. She asks that I do certain things, and here lately, I have been doing them. It really is nice, I sit and she pets me, I keep my belly band dry and she loves on me, I come when she calls and she showers me with love. I think I like this. I don’t have to be in charge anymore, and it is such a relief. When I do what she asks of me, I get tons of love and attention. Ohh, this is soooo nice. Now I understand why the other Scots here are so happy. They don’t have the stress of being the alpha, it is very clear who is in charge and it is wonderful. We are all a team now, and we all love this lady. We play the greatest games, for instance, when I am up on the sofa, she throws a blanket on me and plays pick-a-boo. We always end up in a pile on the floor with lots of belly scratches. She pats my tummy all the time, and if my bellyband is dry she gets really excited, and tells me what a good boy I am. I am beginning to think I am a good boy again.

My favorite thing is when I am outside, we sometimes get into marking wars, and it is great fun. She says this is a good thing too. Sometimes, my bellyband gets wet in the house and she tells me “no marking in the house Jacks”, and then we all go outside again. I think I would do anything to please this lady.

Someday soon I have to go to the vet for a operation. The vet says I have a luxating patella, which is a kneecap that moves out of position. That’s why my leg hurts when I get really active. He says he can fix me right up and I will not have to worry about the pain anymore.

My lady keeps telling me she will find a perfect family for me, and that it was not my fault that my other family did not understand. It was not me who was to blame. I am still trying to understand but this lady is committed to working with me. I know I can trust her to find the right home. Someday, I will be happy and content, like the others here. She says I have more work to do, and I trust her. When my big day comes, I know I will love my new family and they will love me too. I know I am a good boy now.

Jackson is a 3-year-old male owner release fear biter. He has major issues with marking and insecurity issues. I know he will be a fine pet someday. It will just take some time.

As time goes on, he is showing more and more promise. He is a darling little fellow who has been very misunderstood. He does not want to be the alpha, he wants a loving home.

Someone who is strong enough to let him know they are in charge. We have not seen any aggression for a while now and soon he will be housebroken. His marking is getting less and less. He needs stability.

Scots are not for everyone, they are not for the weak at heart, they have attitude! Jackson is a perfect example of what happens when people buy a Scot and do not know this breed. Scots will rule if allowed! But they also love the freedom of not having to make all the decisions. Someone needs to be in charge; the Scots will accept this position if it seems necessary. As a Scottie rescuer, my first and most important rule is “The human must be more intelligent than the dog.” Scotties can and do outsmart certain humans, and when they do, the household gets run on doggy terms. But then it is the poor dog who pays the price.

Bonnie Parker
Bonhaven Scottish Terrier Rescue
Tulsa, Oklahoma

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