About 6 months ago, I lost the dog that introduced me to the Divine Church of the Border Collie.
This morning I lost the dog that brought me my passion. I have lost my muse. My alpha. My friend. My ever constant and devoted companion.
Passion? I hear many of you wondering, aren’t border collies your passion? Well, yes, they are, I do love them, and they are my chosen breed. However, Rescue has become my life’s work. I hope to someday be remembered for my rescue work, and not simply because I am the crazy woman with the dogs. Missy was the very first MABCR Rescue dog. She led me down the road less traveled.
Missy came into my life 12 years and 8 months ago to the very day. On my birthday. I didn’t choose her, she chose me. Well, sort of. Friends at work and my mentor convinced me to take one of the feral dogs trapped the day before to see if I could rehabilitate and re-home one. They said I would be good at it. (I am such a sucker). I agreed to take one if I could touch one. Missy let me touch her. And, in return, she touched me…
She taught me so many things about dogs, about people, and about life. She was the welcoming committee at the farm. Anyone who came to visit met her, they simply had no choice, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Missy lived her life the way we all should. With honesty, love, and trust of those who earned it. She knew how to get mad, then let it go. She knew not to worry about the little things. She knew how to live in the moment and to take the time to smell the flowers.
She was feral when I took her in. A real survivor, she ate out of the dumpster, coveted Mickey D’s bags for what she could lick from the paper, refused to be crated without huge amounts of (food) bribery, broke out windows in order to escape being locked up when left alone. She always retained a piece of that wild dog, in tiny ways no one else noticed, but they were there.
Over the years, Missy learned to trust. She became a real Moo. She was a leader, a lover, and a devoted friend., as gentle as they come. She led the pack here at Victory Farm with grace and dignity, correcting only when absolutely needed, socializing each and every dog that arrived, and wished them well when they moved on to forever homes.
Many of you don’t know that once Missy was re-homed. When I pulled her from the shelter, my only goal was to place her into a forever home, not to provide her with one. Well, she would have none of it, and made such a mess in her adoptive home that she came back…and never left. My first placement failure, but my most successful rehab. She was happy here, she knew the rules, and was the alarm when others were not following them. When Missy barked, I knew I needed to see what was happening, because it was never good.
Missy changed my life as no other being ever has. She gave me a path, and instructed me along the way. A friend sent me a poem when Bandit died. There is a line that says “The best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.” Today, a piece of my heart is gone forever, but in its place, is the piece of Missy’s heart she left behind.
Good bye my sweet la’ Moo. Say hello to your Old Man Bandit. Kiss his ears for me. And I’ll see you when I see you.
This morning I lost the dog that brought me my passion. I have lost my muse. My alpha. My friend. My ever constant and devoted companion.
Passion? I hear many of you wondering, aren’t border collies your passion? Well, yes, they are, I do love them, and they are my chosen breed. However, Rescue has become my life’s work. I hope to someday be remembered for my rescue work, and not simply because I am the crazy woman with the dogs. Missy was the very first MABCR Rescue dog. She led me down the road less traveled.
Missy came into my life 12 years and 8 months ago to the very day. On my birthday. I didn’t choose her, she chose me. Well, sort of. Friends at work and my mentor convinced me to take one of the feral dogs trapped the day before to see if I could rehabilitate and re-home one. They said I would be good at it. (I am such a sucker). I agreed to take one if I could touch one. Missy let me touch her. And, in return, she touched me…
She taught me so many things about dogs, about people, and about life. She was the welcoming committee at the farm. Anyone who came to visit met her, they simply had no choice, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Missy lived her life the way we all should. With honesty, love, and trust of those who earned it. She knew how to get mad, then let it go. She knew not to worry about the little things. She knew how to live in the moment and to take the time to smell the flowers.
She was feral when I took her in. A real survivor, she ate out of the dumpster, coveted Mickey D’s bags for what she could lick from the paper, refused to be crated without huge amounts of (food) bribery, broke out windows in order to escape being locked up when left alone. She always retained a piece of that wild dog, in tiny ways no one else noticed, but they were there.
Over the years, Missy learned to trust. She became a real Moo. She was a leader, a lover, and a devoted friend., as gentle as they come. She led the pack here at Victory Farm with grace and dignity, correcting only when absolutely needed, socializing each and every dog that arrived, and wished them well when they moved on to forever homes.
Many of you don’t know that once Missy was re-homed. When I pulled her from the shelter, my only goal was to place her into a forever home, not to provide her with one. Well, she would have none of it, and made such a mess in her adoptive home that she came back…and never left. My first placement failure, but my most successful rehab. She was happy here, she knew the rules, and was the alarm when others were not following them. When Missy barked, I knew I needed to see what was happening, because it was never good.
Missy changed my life as no other being ever has. She gave me a path, and instructed me along the way. A friend sent me a poem when Bandit died. There is a line that says “The best place to bury a good dog is in the heart of his master.” Today, a piece of my heart is gone forever, but in its place, is the piece of Missy’s heart she left behind.
Good bye my sweet la’ Moo. Say hello to your Old Man Bandit. Kiss his ears for me. And I’ll see you when I see you.
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