My wife became interested in Welsh Terriers after our Newfy Pyrenees cross died last year, but we were having a hard time finding one. The breeders that we spoke to all had waiting lists.
We finally found a breeder within driving distance and drove down south of the line one weekend to pick up Angus. He seemed like a quiet dog, falling asleep in his kennel on the ride home.
Eight months later, we’ve gotten to know the real Angus.
He’s pretty much full grown now - about 20 inches high, 25 pounds of pure craziness. I call him “Crazy dog” as often as I do Angus. He listens equally well to both monikers.
We were not all that familiar with terriers, as neither of us had ever owned one.
The best descriptors I can think of for this little beast is “mischievous,” “ impish” and “incorrigible.”
Last year, I spent most of the spring building fences to keep the deer in our neighbourhood out. I spent most of this spring building more fences to keep Angus in.
If Angus gets it in his mind that he wants to go somewhere, or chase something, there doesn’t seem to be anything humanly possible that can be done to stop him. I began installing three foot high fence to keep him in; I finished with four foot fence, and I’m doubtful whether that will be enough to stop him.
Angus delights in stealing whatever it is you might be working with, or whatever happens to be lying around - shoes, brooms, gloves, tools (my wife found a pair of pliers that had gone missing, buried in the yard) and running around the yard, hoping someone will give chase - a blissfully happy 25 pound bundle of curly fur and pure joy, his back feet kicking sideways ever so slightly in cheekiness.
His favourite pastime is ball chasing. He can fetch for hours, then bring the ball into the house to toss it around by himself, if he has too, using his mouth. He reminds me of a gambling addict who can’t put the dice down.
My wife has always seen the need for discipline, but Angus usually makes me laugh, even when he’s at his precocious worst. I find his boundless energy and “sworn to fun, loyal to none” attitude too endearing to ever discipline him for.
That changed last week, however. We went camping up at Jewel Lake and took Angus out for a kayak. We stopped at a boat launch midway up the lake to give him a break from swimming, and somehow, he managed to wriggle out of his life jacket, and his leash.
As soon as he realized what he had done, it was like he’d broken out of prison. He gave us a look that said, “I’m free at last! I’ll send you a postcard!” And he was gone.
Well, actually, he began to make ever increasing exploratory circles of the area, making sure we were still nearby, but not allowing himself to be caught, and getting bolder with each free minute. Attempts to entice him to within our grasp were ignored.
With visions of him disappearing into the forest, totally at the mercy of any animal out there, we were fortunate that he was attracted to some people at a nearby cottage. Ever the social dog, he managed to get through their fence, where, luckily, the cottage owner was able to grab hold of him for us.
I realize now that, somehow, this impetuous little pooch needs to understand and obey his master’s commands.
I’m sure we’ll eventually get through to him - I can see we are making progress, but it is slow. And I guess I’ll have to do my part and provide Angus with some back up discipline, rather than leave it all in my wife’s hands.
Tomorrow, for sure. Today, he’s just too cute.