A quick rundown for those not inclined to read the article: This is one of our favorite harnesses for Westies. (We understand when pressed for time, who wants to digest paragraphs of text?) Harness background: We have purchased many harnesses over the years for our Westies. We really like the Voyager brand for everyday use.
Sizing: Smaller, petite Westies weighing 12-13-ish pounds will probably take a Medium. It also depends on how much fur is on your Westie. (After I strip Sally’s fur, the velcro clasp on the Medium needs to be tightened more compared to when she’s bushier.) A 14+ pound Westie will take a Large. However, be sure to take measurements around the top back before ordering. If your Westie is muscular and wider, it will take a larger size. Measure first!
It’s an early evening in October, and I’m in the front yard with my Westie, Sally. She’s one-yearold and facilitating between puppyhood and adolescence. Ever since I brought her home at four months, she has this annoying habit of yelling (barking) at humans and canines seconds after exiting the front door. She wants to make sure everyone knows this swath of grass is her space – cross the line, and there will be retribution. As we walk around the yard, we both spot a neighbor walking her Labrador. Sally and the chocolate Lab are the same age, and undeniably, the Lab is well behaved, much calmer, and dare I say, sweeter, than Sally.
Observing the neighbor’s body language – languid walk, a smile, and small wave, she seems inclined to greet us and engage in conversation. I’m unenthusiastic because even though Sally has gone to obedience classes, she doesn’t always display composure. (So passers-by don’t witness Sally’s bluntness and temper, I’ve often tried to pretend not to see them and distract my Westie by pointing to birds. However, it feels rude.) Hesitantly, across the yard, we go to exchange greetings and sniffs. We have all met before, and so far, this second back-and-forth between humans and canines seems to be going well.
But I know I can’t settle into a state of easy conversation – Sally is a terrier after all and one of the hardest Westies I’ve raised. She’s kept me on my toes since day one. And then it happens – just like that, regular dog/human communication ceases. Suddenly, the Labrador spooks Sally, and the game is afoot. Yelps splinter the air, and even though I’m holding firmly onto the leash, Sally performs a contorted Houdini act by the likes I’ve never seen before. Within seconds she’s out of her collar and running circles around the neighbor’s dog. Panic rises from my stomach until it reaches my throat and I yell her name and to STOP. I screech again in a stern voice, the neighbor freezes. Sally freezes. It feels as if the world freezes. Thankfully, she halts, and I quickly pull her up into my arms.