It all started with a boy and his mall pet store Scottie named Tori.
Back in the distant past of 2006, Michael was a college freshman at Saint Louis University. He and his family had lost their beloved silky terrier, Terra, several years prior and they were considering adding a new furry friend to the family. The criteria they had was relatively stringent, as far as puppies go. They wanted a pet that was moderately sized, but not tiny. Nothing yappy. A dog that would be just as happy to hang out on the couch on a rainy Saturday morning as it would be romping alongside their heels on a long evening walk. Something intelligent, yet independent. Something stoic. Friendly, but not needy. And above all else, it had to be low to no shedding.
Needless to say, the list of breeds that met this profile were relatively few. After much deliberation (and a couple of trips to meet some), Michael decided on a Scottish Terrier.
Even back then, the breed was difficult to find. Several calls were made to multiple pet stores across three states and finally, a pup was located. Michael and his parents travelled the two and a half hours to meet her knowing that she was likely coming home with them that day. $750 (about $1,200 in today’s cash) and several impromptu accessory purchases later, Michael wrapped her up tightly in a fuzzy blanket and she fell asleep on his lap for the duration of the trip home.
If you spotted the multiple red flags in this story, then congratulations! You are a savvy puppy purchaser indeed! For those who may not see anything wrong with the above scenario, there are a number of things that should have been done differently. We’ll provide a post later regarding the right way to select a breeder. For now, know that Michael and his family had no ill intentions. They simply did not know any better then.
Regardless of her origins, Tori quickly became a beloved member of the family. Michael frequently joked that she was his dog in name only, as she strongly preferred the company of women. When one was around, she would immediately gravitate to them instead. Which, unsurprisingly, is how she came to be my first Scottie.
I first met Tori in 2012, when Michael and I started dating. Instantly, I was enchanted by her mannerisms, her independent nature, and her charming ability to turn any walk around his apartment complex into a trip to the community’s dog park seemingly by sheer force of silent, stoic will. I loved the tip of her left ear, which never quite stood up the way it was supposed to. I loved her quirky personality. She simply refused to acknowledge the existence of dogs that were smaller than her and looked upon them with a lofty sense of disdain. When we moved into our duplex, she would sit on our porch furniture and watch the world go by with what can only be described as regal indifference. She hoarded tiny toys and followed me everywhere I went. She would do absolutely anything for cheese. And if we stayed up longer than 10pm, she would sigh in judgement, turn down the hallway, and put herself to bed.
Later, we purchased our first home together and Tori settled in immediately. Her favorite place to be was in the crook of my leg during our evening snuggles on the couch. A true highland lass, she loved the snow and took every opportunity to romp in the few inches we get here each winter in northern Alabama. Every time she ventured out into it, she’d return covered in tiny snowballs that had to be plucked from her fur by hand.
Despite all of her wonderful qualities, Tori also had a mean streak of dog aggression that I was never able to break. She was nippy with children, and she suffered from persistent allergies that caused her to chew on her front feet incessantly. In researching these issues, I learned that they’re not uncommon in Scotties who come from poor breeding lines or commercial stock – which Tori certainly did.
Tori was born in Mountainburg, Arkansas, a sleepy town that boasted just 631 residents as of the 2010 census. She was registered by the American Pet Registry, a self-proclaimed “reputable” organization that claims to register dogs in the same manner as the AKC. However, digging deeper would reveal that the registry was founded by commercial puppy farmers in 1995 – just ten years before Tori was born. Twelve years later in 2018, an unnamed kennel in Mountainburg Arkansas would make it to the Humane Society’s “Horrible Hundred” list of puppy mills committing egregious acts of cruelty. I cannot say for certain that this was Tori’s breeder due to the redaction of the owner’s name, but considering the size of the town in question, I think it’s a fairly safe assumption to make.
Her veterinary records were likewise provided at the time of purchase. They show all care being delivered by The Hunte Corporation, which was at one time the largest puppy dealer in the world. They operated a 200,000 square foot holding and retail facility in Goodman, Missouri which contained surgical suites, a retail shop, a warehouse for animals, and multiple trucking bays. From this, we can deduce that Tori was likely bred at a puppy mill in rural Arkansas, pulled from her litter at exactly 8 weeks old, and transported to The Hunte Corporation’s Choice Puppies location before being sent on to a Pass Pets in Chesterfield, Missouri. This paperwork also indicates that she was treated with metronidazole, a powerful antibiotic, as soon as or not long after she arrived at the facility in Goodman. It might have been for kennel cough, or it might have been an unsuccessful attempt at treating the bilateral ear infections she had at the time that Michael brought her home at twelve weeks old.
Tori was already six by the time she adopted me, but when I learned of her heritage it tugged at my heartstrings. How could such amazing little souls like her be exploited in such a manner? Did her warehoused beginning in life have anything to do with her aggression towards other dogs, or was that simply a result of poor breeding? Maybe was it a result of her languishing in a cage unsocialized? Was she mistreated by men, leading to her preference for females? Had her parents ever received veterinary care in their lives? Were they allowed to roam, or even exit their cages? These are the questions that we’ll never have answers for. Even though she’s been gone for several years now, they still nag at me from time to time.
Not long after, we learned that we were expecting our first child. I swear to this day that Tori knew I was pregnant before I did. She demanded on being right at my side every waking (and sleeping) moment, and she rarely took her eyes off of me. I found it irritating at the time, but looking back it’s one of my fondest memories of her. We had grave concerns about what life would look like with a new baby and a child-reactive dog under one roof. We discussed mitigation strategies daily. We planned desensitization therapy through a local dog training organization, but we weren’t sure that it would be able to overcome her seemingly pre-programmed fear of children.
Six weeks before my due date, we found Tori unresponsive underneath Michael’s office chair. She had already passed, but it must have occurred not long before we found her. She showed no signs of illness or stress beforehand. One moment she was here, and the next she was simply gone. She was a few weeks shy of her eleventh birthday when she died. I’ve always wondered if her genetics had some part to play in the way she left us. There’s no way to know, and there’s really no point in guessing. It was at this point that we began researching into her lineage and discovered the details of her early life that I related above.
Although things ultimately turned out well for Tori (and for us), I often wonder about the thousands of other dogs that are living and produced in unsanitary, inhumane conditions in similar breeding facilities throughout the Midwest and within the Amish communities of Pennsylvania. It’s these facilities that inspired our desire to foster dogs for our local shelter and donate to rescue organizations working against these commercial enterprises.
Tori may be the reason that we fell in love with Scotties, but her unfortunate origins were the inspiration we used to guide our principals as stewards of this amazing breed. She taught us much about Scottish terriers, spurred our education in breeding practices, and ingrained in us the importance of selecting for good temperament traits.
Was she the most high quality dog in the world? Certainly not…but to us, she was perfect. We miss her dearly.
Dupplin Scotties 
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