Doggy posts continued...
My first puppy that I ever fell in love with still lives at my parents' house. The neighbors' German Shepherd had always been around for me to play with since we moved to our house a few months after I was born. I'm told the huge dog would follow my little toddling butt everywhere, a make-shift mother whenever I was outside. But when that beloved dog passed away when I was in 5th grade, my parents finally said I could have my own. (We didn't want to bring another little dog to our small mountain top neighborhood of 2 houses and cause problems with the shepherd who had always had the land to herself.)
I had once went with my cousin and aunt to take their dog to the vet and had spotted a miniature collie while there, (formally known as a Shetland Sheepdog), and quickly fell in love with the breed. So, for my birthday present in 6th grade, my parents searched near and far for a respectable breeder and found one in West Virginia.
It was a long wait for the litter to be conceived, gestated, born and weaned - almost an eternity in a 12 year old's patience! We braved a snow storm to get her, sliding on windy mountain roads, and then an unexpected break-down in our woody wagon, stopping at a stranger's house in no-man's land to call my grandparents to pick us up; all the while the new puppy suffering terrible car sickness, making the whole trip a bit messier than expected.
It may have been hell on wheels to get the sweetheart, but she's been a delight ever since. She's no "Marley" - she's the best dog you could ever own. Never chewed up the first thing, always seeming to know when you meant "NO" should you ever need to say it (about once a year) and being the best friend a girl could have. She's been the perfect addition to our family and has now reached the ripe old age of 13 years old as of November 20th - that's 91 doggy years!
Pictures of my sweet Casey Marie: