Cairn Terrier

Someone who lets me dig, actual digging, actual holes, this is not negotiable for a terrier bred to hunt through rock piles. I want adventures, not just walks around the block. Give me a patch of garden and low expectations for its survival.

I've got a weatherproof double coat built for the Scottish Highlands and a curiosity that gets me into genuine trouble. I approach every unfamiliar smell like it's an active investigation. My tail wags at roughly the same rate as my brain generates new terrible ideas.

I dig, this isn't a phase, it's what I was built for, so a garden or a sandpit saves your actual garden. My eyes and joints need regular checks as I age too. Adventure comes with real maintenance behind it.

You give me somewhere sanctioned to dig before I pick somewhere unsanctioned. You keep up with vet checks even though I seem indestructible. And you appreciate a small dog with an actual film credit to their ancestral name.

A Cairn Terrier played Toto in the Wizard of Oz. I've never let a single relative forget this connection. I bring it up unprompted, often.

Swipe right. I'm scrappy, curious, and dining out on a black and white movie credit.