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Clyde was indeed my family dog for a period when I was growing up. He was a pure bred Scottish Terrier but demonstrated that good breeding doesn’t guarantee much. For the most part he was a good fit with the family in typical dog ways but there were a lot of times he would need to do his own thing. He’d dissapear for days at a time but always showed back up, usually dirty and stinky with his long belly fur full of burrs. I don’t remember anyone ever worrying much over him. Clyde was the last pet my parents ever had.