On August 1, 1994 a litter of border collies was born, 5 sisters,on a farm in Glenwood Springs, MN. By the end of September 1994 one of them had come to live with me.
She was a joy, quick learner, a great herder, a peerless communicator from a breed known for communications skills, a flyball champion, she loved frisbees more than food, hated water and she was my dear dog. Who, I believe, lived 15+ years of a pretty stellar doggie life, though not being a dog myself I can't be positive.
Her long life ended today, she failed very rapidly while I was away in CA. It seemed like she was waiting for me to get back so we could say good bye and I could feed her some cheese.
Which I did and now she is gone. And part of me is trying to remember just why we have these pets that we know will die and it will hurt so bad. And part of me is just grateful that I had her. And then there are other parts, but they all hurt right now except for the ones that are numb.
One of the most beautiful sights in the universe is a border collie flat out running over a green field.