Kimberly's Kelsy Dare
"Kelsy"

October 14, 1996 - May 21, 2002

When I decided to get a Sheltie my senior year of college I spent hours picking out the perfect name. Something Celtic that flowed easily and fit the quiet little pup I’d picked out. Kimberly’s Kelsy Dare. Kelsy is Irish and means “brave.” Dare means “beloved,” and beloved she was for the 5 ½ years we spent together. Kelsy passed away Tues., May 21 of causes relating to a history of pancreatitis, a bacterial infection and eventually a rare form of kidney failure/disease.

Kelsy was a feisty pup who would run mad circles on the living room floor then crash from exhaustion. She attacked pine cones like they were vicious enemies. It took a long time to get her to sleep in the bed with me at night – she’d run around the bed and finally rest on top of the pillows above my head. I’d think she’d finally calmed down but when I woke in the morning, would find little chew holes in the corners of the pillowcases.

She loved chewing furniture, ate carpet and even chewed a hole in the wall – not a corner but the actual wall. She eventually grew out of that stage and moved on to swimming lessons with her grandpa, and chase with cousin Buck, a yellow lab about six months her junior. Kelsy would wag her sassy tail and look back to say “come on, aren’t you going to chase me?” Her grandpa spent countless hours coaxing her into the pool, talking softly to her and whispering secrets in her ear – they had a very special bond and Kelsy would curl up with him at night with her head on his shoulder and fall asleep.

I don’t know if it is a trait of Shelties, but Kelsy never whined or cried. I heard her whine once when she and Buck were begging for food – Buck started whining so Kelsy let out a couple of small whines then stopped – it just wasn’t her style. She was a pro beggar, but she did so with that patient, intense dog gaze and if you weren’t paying attention, a quick scratch of the paw on your knee or a nuzzle buck to your hand, placing it expertly on the top of her head for a good rubbing.

I have a new Sheltie pup now, Kelsy’s Legacy Kasey Tate, and find it amazing how different they are. Kelsy grew into a loving, quiet, mellow companion who rarely barked unless there was a storm brewing outside. Kasey talks all the time. Her begging skills pale in comparison to Kelsy’s – she lunges at food and her face is full of excitement at the challenge of stealing food, her little mind working ninety to nothing trying to figure out the best way to dodge in for a nibble. I’m enjoying her puppyhood but can’t wait to see what kind of lady she will grow into.

Many people say dogs and pets are just like their owners. Kelsy and I shared many traits – most notably we were both fiercely independent yet incredibly affectionate. She let out a long sigh just before she fell asleep at night, just like me. She’d flop herself like a fish to move up to the pillow so she could place her head on my shoulder and snuggle up for bed.

Kelsy was a very easy-going Sheltie who liked to do things her own way, in her own time. She drank water from the opposite end of the bowl and only if the water was clean, preferably with ice. She brought her food in small mouthfuls into the living room to eat while we watched TV and liked to roll grapes around in her mouth and on the floor before eating them. Kelsy was an excellent co-pilot on our many trips from Louisiana, Florida, Texas, Tennessee and back again. She was a regal, well-traveled girl. Her arch enemies probably still continue to be thunder, lightning and garbage trucks.

A week after she died I received a package from the vet school that took care of her in her final days – a locket of hair and a plaster imprint of her paw. It will be Kelsy’s sixth birthday on October 14.

Sleep well my sweet girl and visit us often in our dreams. Go well and make friends on the Rainbow Bridge – play like I haven’t seen you play in years with your tail wagging high and the sparkle in your eyes. Get all the scratches and hugs from my grandpas and know we love you well.

Kimberly Gill

Arwen Evening Star
"Erin"

July 8, 1993 - December 2, 2002

My beloved mahogany sable was pure joy! She came to us at three years of age after giving birth to 5 puppies. After one week in residence she saved my aging Sheltie's life. She alerted me that she was stuck behind the washing machine with the hose wrapped around her neck! Oh, Erie Girl, I miss you so much. You are my guardian angel! Thank you for six wonderful years.

Rest well, Beautiful.

Gretchen Knowles

"Shed no tears of sorrow
for I am not gone
Believe in your heart
I will be there
Believe in your heart
and I am there."

CH. Benayr It Takes Two

or Tango John as he was known to his friends
(and there were many),
went to the Bridge December 27, 2002.
No words can describe
the impact he had on my life.
Sit well at God's feet, T.
I'll be there.

Kathy McFall