Monday, June 17, 2013

Sheltie Sugar

Yesterday's forecast was for thunderstorms in the afternoon. So I packed up the pups in the van at 9 and off we went for an early morning walk at the retirement village near our house. It was lovely; the sun was shining but there was a breeze to keep us cool. Miss Dixie was out in front, prancing her Party Pants look. At one cottage, an elderly woman came out and asked if these were all my Shelties. I said, "Yes, they are!" as I crossed the street to her driveway. She started to cry. "We just lost our Sheltie. He was 15." I remember that dog. Kyle was a tri who came out to greet us one time as we walked next to his yard. He was a sweet, dear dog. I had talked to this woman and her husband, and we found that we had some other Sheltie owners in common.

She called to her husband, who came out to admire my dogs. And something special happened. Mike--who hates to be touched--went up to this man and let him pet and stroke his back. That gesture usually makes Mike yipe and move away. Then Mike moved away slightly, and CAME BACK for more petting. How special is that? The man was saying that he is 85 so they don't want to get another dog. I told them they can get some Sheltie Sugar anytime I'm out walking.

We stayed for about 10 minutes, talking, petting the dogs. Dixie tried to jump up and bite a nose when a face got too close. We all laughed. As I walked away, the woman had her face in her hands, sobbing, mourning the loss of her Kyle. I, too, was teary, knowing her pain. We've all been there. That's why we have to love them while they are here.

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