America's gentleman
I was unaware that Boston terriers had their own day, but they do. It was unfortunately on the nineteenth, but if you love Boston terriers then you don't need a reason to celebrate. Etsy shop this time is SouthernClassicBows.
Boston terriers have smushed faces like pugs and the various bulldogs, so some folks deride the breed as ugly. But if you grew up with one, like my mother and I both did, it's impossible to see the ugliness in the breed. Funny-looking? Yes, but we don't find the little goobers ugly. My family has owned two, and they were both easygoing, fun-loving dogs...unless they had reason not to be easygoing. When I was very, very small some a-hole broke into our house, and Brandy, the Boston terrier we had at the time, bit the snot out of him. The prick had kicked Brandy and shut her up in a bedroom while he tried to unplug the TV, and then Daddy came home and caught him in the act! Daddy couldn't catch the would-be thief, but he released Brandy and she bit the miscreant on the a$$ as he was going over the fence. Daddy reported that Brandy got a chunk out of the guy, blue jeans and all. But that was an exceptional case; Brandy was otherwise a chill dog who loved to cuddle and get handouts from the table. She chased cars, rode out both a small house fire and a tornado scare with us, and put up with me pretending she was presenting the Academy Awards. She was great.
Brandy died when I was young, and much of my childhood was spent in the company of a big red chow chow, but when sixth grade rolled around Daddy decided it was time for us to have another Boston terrier. This one was a boy, and we christened him Doc Holliday. Doc was a very large, muscular specimen who loved to jump and play, but he was coward of the century. He was afraid of snakes, of rabbits, of the pissed-off feral cat who lived in the alley, and Daddy once said that the dog even ran from a crippled bird. Our chow chow? Our Siamese cat? They knew how to deal with birds, but not crazy ol' Doc Holliday. No, Doc wasn't too bright, but he made up for it by being incredibly affectionate and playful. He hated being cold and would go outside during the summer just to get the AC's chill off his skin.
As for the chow, I know that chows have a terrible reputation, but Xanadu was arguably the smartest and most loving dog we had. She deserves a post of her own, and if I get the right bow I'll do it.
Puppy love,
RagingMoon1987
Brandy died when I was young, and much of my childhood was spent in the company of a big red chow chow, but when sixth grade rolled around Daddy decided it was time for us to have another Boston terrier. This one was a boy, and we christened him Doc Holliday. Doc was a very large, muscular specimen who loved to jump and play, but he was coward of the century. He was afraid of snakes, of rabbits, of the pissed-off feral cat who lived in the alley, and Daddy once said that the dog even ran from a crippled bird. Our chow chow? Our Siamese cat? They knew how to deal with birds, but not crazy ol' Doc Holliday. No, Doc wasn't too bright, but he made up for it by being incredibly affectionate and playful. He hated being cold and would go outside during the summer just to get the AC's chill off his skin.
As for the chow, I know that chows have a terrible reputation, but Xanadu was arguably the smartest and most loving dog we had. She deserves a post of her own, and if I get the right bow I'll do it.
Puppy love,
RagingMoon1987
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