My father, Bill, was a patient, loving man who had the biggest heart for these fluffy creatures. He would act gruff, calling out, "Alex, you old man, get moving. I'm going to leave you out here if you don't hurry up!" when Alex went on another yard exploration. Of course, neither Alex, nor any of the five Shelties that touched his life ever were. He would drop two extra slices of toast each morning and would diligently pour out his cereal milk into four bowls for each furry critter before he would go to work. His biggest smiles were playing with the puppies; he even let them tear up his wild violets because they chose that area of the yard to wrestle.

He rescued Champ without ever realizing others did this... he acted out of impulse and compassion for a hungry, battered and weary soul. The pain in Dad's eyes was hard to hide when Champ would cower from his deep voice. After months of gaining his trust, Champ finally would snuggle on the bed after allowing Dad to gently pick him up.

I know that dogs mourn, as for months after we lost Dad suddenly from heart attack at 52, the boys would wait sadly by the dining room door after 5 p.m. until they would be run upstairs for bed, waiting for the master to return from work. I believe they still remember, as the older boys will wag and smile when I pull out an old shirt from the closet...

Jan Clifton, Danville, IL

Nathan was a sweet guy, friend. Everyone knew him at school. He was cute, popular and nice. He would hang with the not so popular people (me). We would hang at the park. Oh, how he LOVED shelties. He got me hooked on them. He had six shelties (city limits). He would cry when he ever heard a story of someone abusing shelties or any dog. He helped me when my shelties got sock. He was a true blue sheltie lover. He had them for 18 years, from when he was born to when he died. I got one of his shelties, his mom got the others.

Nathan died in a motorcycle accident. He was going to check up on someone who was abusing a sheltie when he fell off and was hit by a drunk driver. It was a sad day. His funeral was sad. His friends, Mom, relatives and shelties were there. He was young, only 18, but he knew what he liked, and that was shelties. He would always say, "Chelsea, when I move out I am going to breed shelties, rescue them and love them. You will be my partner in the great sheltie madness." Now, every time I see a sheltie I see him in each one, for he loved them so much he is almost a part of them. My newest sheltie reminds me of him so much, I wouldn't be surprised if it was him coming back to this world as a sheltie.

Nathan, I still miss you. I always will. Don't worry, Donny is well. He misses you, too. I'll see you up at Rainbow Bridge, with all your shelties and mine.

We love you all of us,
Chelsea

Helen Wheeler Connor was a sheltie breeder in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania a number of years ago, and her family was kind enough to send a memorial contribution in the name of rescue.

In memory of Helen Wheeler Connor, sheltie lover, sadly missed by the Phillip and Ruth Wheeler family, Bonnie, Tony and Mary Jo, Jim and Meg.