
My husband and I got our first cairn terrier when my mom died. We inherited her five-year-old female named Skye, a Toto look-alike who was very sweet, easy and fearful of plastic bags and thunderstorms. When she died eight years later, we went out and got two more. Ten weeks old. Brothers. Adorable. A ton of work. Fearful of nothing. Unlike Skye who hid behind the toilet with an approaching storm, these two ran to the door and barked at the thunder. We have our hands full.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Skye's Many Names

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