Here is my four-legged pride and joy, Mickey.
Mickey is a Shetland Sheepdog (a.k.a. Sheltie). I adopted him from the Tri-State Collie Rescue Service eight years ago, just after they rescued him from death row. It was the same day I asked my vet to help me find a dog needing a good home. Can you say "fate!"
I lost my previous dog in November 1993. My niece, four-year-old Chelsea, insisted I needed another dog and she should get me one for Christmas. She was in love with their neighbor's Shelties and just knew I should have one. However, the breeder decided to keep the last puppy, so Chelsea's wish for me didn't happen - yet. Was it coincidence or fate that when I started looking for a dog in January, the first one I saw was a Sheltie?
I asked Chelsea to go with me when I picked Mickey up from the Rescue Service. Ever since, she considers Mickey to be part hers - which is fine with both of us.
The vet figured him to be around two years old, then. That makes him a geriatric dog and sometimes a grouchy old man .He was insecure for the first year I had him; didn't like men at all and the taller they were the less he liked them. But by the second year, he knew he was safe and settled in. If you're a man and he met you that first year, he remembers being afraid of you, but now he takes to new male friends quickly - unless you're delivering mail or pizza.
If you've ever watched the Westminster Dog Show, you've heard the narrator label Shelties as "your more talkative breed." Mickey lives up this trait very well. Fortunately, the neighbors understand the differences in his barks, especially from the "pay attention to me" to the "you're not supposed to be here" barks.
Mickey and Chelsea, Christmas 2001
