Teagan the Terrorist

Teagan at 10 weeks, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth...shoes are another story.

Four months ago, my beautiful girl Cora, had a healthy litter of pups.  All yellows, my favorite color Lab.  The first month, Cora did all the hard work; feeding, cleaning, keeping the squirming bundles of joy warm and dry. My turn came the second month, after their baby teeth came in and Cora had absolutely no interest in letting her litter of piranhas nurse on her anymore.   In the middle of taking care of everybody, I felt like it would never end. But my caretaking of the little ones came to an end and all, but one, went to their new homes.  For someone else to clean up after them.  You can see them here:  http://glendairlabradors.com/puppies.html

I kept the boldest, most independent of them all and named her Teagan (which means beautiful in Irish, or poet).  Oh, the hopes and dreams I have for her.  So many things to do, so many places to go and people to meet.  There is so much on her little shoulders, it’s amazing that she hasn’t collapsed under the weight of it all.  But because she’s a dog, she doesn’t care.  She doesn’t care whether she gets her AKC champion, a Master Hunter, or if she can find people.  Her favorite escapade in the entire world is to run full force into whatever dog is in front of her.  If she can make them yelp she’s happy, if she can bowl them over she’s ecstatic.  If she can get the others caught up in her puppy crazies and chase her round and round and round and round, her days work is done! 

I wanted to keep the pup with the most outgoing fearless and independent personality.  I did, but she personifies, be careful what you wish for, you may get it.  All the pups I’ve had before her, adored me and couldn’t wait to do whatever I asked of them.  Teagan on the other hand has given me the paw more times in the eight weeks I’ve had just her, than all my other dogs have ever given me in their entire lives, COMBINED!

She is fearless.  At training, a team mate of mine has a van full of German Shepherds that go absolutely ballistic if anything or anyone comes near the van.  Her preferred choice of entertainment when I let her out of the truck is to go around to the back of Misty’s van and stand there.  She’ll watch the dogs go mad, flinging themselves at the crate doors, screaming at the top of their lungs, slobber flung far and wide and generally lose their marbles.  She doesn’t run, her hackles don’t elevate, she doesn’t bark back at them.  She calmly squats and pees in front of them, marking her territory, then wanders off.  Ignoring me completely as I am trying to call her back to the truck.