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this face:

 

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Show me your long lost loves.

 

Immortality is achieved when you are not forgotten. Briggs is going to live forever. Who is going to live forever because of you?

 

RDM

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Not a BC but my golden mix, Sam. He was truly a velcro dog and I miss him. A lot.

 

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Ski - the dog I grew up with. I still expect him to be at my parent's house.

 

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He always hated being left behind, and now he's the one that's left us.

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Rest in peace Freckles, my old man dog.

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My first dog I had Starburst, she was a great friend growing up:

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And a pup I brought home from Utah when I went for a couple of weeks to help wrangle some horse trails with the Mustangs.

Dakota, who I think was Border Collie (mix?). My friend had her at her house for a little while and was in the back yard while they were gone one day and we think that someone poisoned her, she was only 6-8 months old we think

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My old man William (Feb. 1993--Aug. 2006), the first border collie I got to pick as my own companion instead of just being the family "farm dog."

 

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Well, It's been almost 8 years since I lost Kyra and I still think of her every day.

 

One of my last photos of her:

 

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As a pup...to her last day she would always pick up a stuffed toy to go pee with.

 

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Screening the horizon in Asiago Italy - one of my favorite photos of her:

 

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And then of course there was Ambra, whom we lost one year after Kyra. She was blind for most of her life and was the sweetest Chow in the entire world. She had the happiest tail.

 

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And one of her younger photos:

 

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A small kid once saw her and called her a living teddy bear!

 

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Sigh.

Maria

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This one the most. She was my first. I think this was the last picture of her at 171/2. Miss Lacey. She brought border collie's into my world. Her ashes sit in my closet and when I die, we will be sprinkled together. My heart dog.

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My three stooges are all gone now.

 

Flash, Zip and my love Sly.

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The one that started it sooo many years ago, Gem.

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And the grande dame of the household, Hannah!

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Ansel:

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He was only with me a short while, but boy, he brightened those days.

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When I was seven, I went with my parents to pick him from a litter. There was a cuter, tan pup named "London" that the owner-girl was holding, and she pushed a little black and white pup away with her foot and said, "Get out of here, Charlie." Naturally, I had to have that one - and we took him home and named him Charlie Brown.

 

These were the days of hippies and free love. All the dogs ran around loose, doing what came naturally. Charlie was about 50 lbs. of suave manhood, even though I dressed him up in my dresses and ribbons. Charlie had many love puppies. One neighborhood purebred almost died giving birth to puppies that were too big - all of whom looked like Charlie Brown. One day, my brother came home and told my mother, "Mom, Charlie Brown is stuck to some other dog... and the lady's REALLY mad!" When the female dog across the street was in heat and locked in the basement, Charlie brown broke through the basement window to see his lady.

 

One summer, when we were supposed to leave for vacation, Charlie took off to roam with a pack of other males, hunting for loose women and carousing. He'd been missing a couple days, and my father went out with our car and trailer, chasing the sound of barking dogs. The police pulled him over - neighbors had called them in fear of robbers who'd been breaking into houses. The police finally believed my father when he pointed out that he wasn't trying to break into houses, driving around at 10 mph and screaming, "Chaaaaarlie! Chaaaaarlie!"

 

We went on vacation and left food with a neighbor boy, asking him to feed the dog if he showed up. Sure enough, he did... but we stayed away for our whole two weeks. When we got home, Charlie jumped in the station wagon and refused to get out. He wasn't letting us leave him again.

 

We got a much-longed-for piano the same day I found out Charlie was dying. They were delivering the piano when I came home from the vet. I still get a little queasy when I visit my mother's house and cross the spot where I can smell that piano-scent.

 

Charlie lived fast, died young and left a good looking corpse. He went at seven to heartworm and cancer, which my mother blames on the red dye in the Gaines Burgers he ate most of his life. I believe that probably, in near and distant corners of northeast Massachusetts and southern New Hampshire, there are still family pets who are the great-great-great grandchildren of Charlie.

 

He wasn't nice, he wasn't well-behaved; he killed chickens and chased cars. But I loved him with seven-year-old love: the debonaire bad boy of my childhood.

 

Mary

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Duncan, who was taken from me far too fast and far too young by cancer. He was my soul mate, my protector, my guide. I literally would not be where I am without him. How fitting that you posted this today. It was a bad one. I had to break the news to a devoted owner that he was going to lose his dog soon to the same form of cancer.

 

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Pi, my precious, bright, sparky, inquisitive, sweet Pi, my first ever BC....

 

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To this day I still have a soft spot and a tender ache in my heart for split face BCs with bi-eyes....

 

Then, the two that went with her, Katy and Raven... I miss them so much.

 

Raven:

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Katy and Pi, they were so much alike!

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I miss Scudder, who we lost in September 2007 to cancer. He wanted nothing more in life than to please us, play soccer, herd squirrels outside and herd the kitty inside. He annoyed the hell out of us often and broke our hearts when he died.

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And I miss Max, who we lost just this past January to old age and a torn ACL. He was a total monster who wanted nothing more than to get his way. He was cranky, grumpy, out of control and a whirlwind of energy. He was an amazing creature and it just doesn't seem possible that he's gone. He was my old man, my poodle, my doofus poofus, my p-brain and other assorted names not suitable for this board.

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I miss Augie. By far the most gentle, sweetest dog I've known. It was because he left us that I accidently found Belle - bc mix which made me research and fall in love with the breed, that lead to getting Jake my heart dog.

 

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I miss my Orlando. He walked in front of our car as a tiny little pup, as we were driving home from seeing the movie called Orlando (from the Virginia Woolf novel). He had parvo when we found him and was able to beat it. He was glued to my side from then on. He became a therapy dog and used to go to the hospital with me. He was always "serious", and rarely played. He was completely devoted to guarding and loving his family---especially the kids, after they came along. Then, his best friend in the whole world showed up one day: Bloomberg, our cat, who was delivered in a load of mulch to my neighbor's property, and since he stunk at landscaping work, came to live with us. Lando and Bloomie spent every waking minute together and slept together too. Bloomie took it as his special assignment to look after Lando once Lando's hearing, then his sight, went bad. Here's a pic of the two of them, taken a day or two before Lando crossed over.

 

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I miss Ruth, my Aussie/Border Collie mix---she was my first dog. Her prior owner had to give her up due to a divorce/housing situation. Ruth was 5 years old then, and was my "Baby Ruth" and "my puppy love" until she died at the age of 14.

 

This picture of her was taken the spring before she died. I miss her so much.

 

 

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