Terriers

Hi, all! I’m back again to do some ferrebeekeeping.

I’m going to start with something personal. I just got a dog!

I love dogs, but I prefer breeds that were created to perform specific jobs or tasks. Dogs with natural vocational skills and an innate sense of purpose seem happier, prouder, and um, gooder dogs, than canines bred to be merely decorative accessories. I prefer people who prefer working dogs as well, but that’s another blog…

We often know these occupationally oriented animals by their very names. Retriever. Shepard. Blood hound. All magnificent animals and wonderful pets.

My wife and I just adopted a terrier, and although the terrier’s genetic calling is not proclaimed in its title, every breath this little puppy takes exudes its identity as a vermin killing machine (as evidenced by our torn and perforated feet).

Terriers are extremely British dogs, designed exclusively for killing rats and chasing down foxes. A dog perfect for arrogant Lords and dirty basement gamblers alike.

Out-maneuvering rats and out-witting foxes sounds like impossibly difficult work, requiring extremely specialized skills. Skills like small size, intelligence, tenacity, and fearlessness. If this sounds like your dog, you probably have a terrier.

They are also stubborn and contrary, often making up for their relative small size with big personalities.

The terrier: the-guy-at-the-local-pub-everyone-likes-to-drink-with-but-he’s-always-hoping-a-barfight-starts of dogs.

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