by thepennywhistle » Tue Mar 16, 2010 1:38 pm
Hi all,
I have collies, have had collies for about 20 years now. Tried showing, found I wasn't competetive enough,
though my dog was good. Tried breeding. Bred 1 litter, was overwhelmed by trying to see all the puppies
into safe homes, and even then I found one in the pound, though the contract specified they'd give her back
if they had to give her up. Moved into collie rescue and helping the collies that really needed an extra bit of
luck and love. This is my spot with my breed
I think collies are just super dogs. Come in two coats, the big fluffy rough collie, and the short-haired smooth.
They're just the same, but the roughs have more hair. Gentle, so very smart, easy to work with and train to
do anything you want, and I don't have to worry about them being too eager to use their mouths. I had GSDs
before collies, and I still adore the breed, but I always had this worry about someone crossing a line with my
dog and getting bitten. Collies only protect me, not the property, though they will let me know about anything
I need to know, such as a neighbor kid's pot party in the back field at 2 a.m., or the space shuttle launch
streaking over the front field. I was scrubbing water buckets and would have missed a beautiful, memorable
site, but for Cas and his woof. "Woof," said Cassidy. One woof, and then I could follow where his collie needle
nose was pointing. He never gave a false alarm, and I learned never to disregard that woof. His big quirk was
chasing helicopters off the property as they flew overhead. Hey, they always flew away after he told them to
Cassidy was also devoted to unweaned kitten rescue. He was the biggest nana dog. It ended up that I would
do the feeding, but he took care of everything else -- all the washing, the comforting, letting them sleep
curled up in his coat, or play king of the hill on top of him. If he felt his kittens were being threatened by
something, such as other dogs playing, he'd pick them up and relocate them. One kitten was so special to
him that he hid him from adopters that came to meet him, and when Tigger came bouncing out of hiding
to mee them, Cas tried to block them from reaching him. The look of heartbreak he gave me when he
realized it wasn't going to work nearly made me cry. I had to let him keep Tigger.
The collies always helped me with the horses, moving them in or out for me, helping me feed. One rescue,
MacLeod, was absolutely determined to stay glued to my side while I slept in the stable during foal watch.
Knowing what moved about in the dark, I was rather grateful. Unfortunately, in protecting me one night,
he and the others barked a possum to death. Just stood around it and barked, but I guess they scared it
to death. That's a collie. Protective, but no more force than necessary. At one point a hurricaine (a small one)
passed directly over my farm. I had to go out and feed the horses, make sure the stable was still standing in
the wind, etc. The rain and wind was so bad I got lost on my own property between house and stable as I was
trying to make it back to the house. Two of the collies came out into that storm with me. Never left my side
while working with the horses, but when we headed back to the house they wasted no time in running ahead of
me. I got turned around with the wind and rain in my face and didn't follow them. When they realized I was
going the wrong way and out into the field, they came back ut into the storm to redirect me and show me the
way back.
The rescue collies are always sad, always confused, but rarely at fault for losing their home. My vet once
said of them, looking at the most recent shelter pull, "You know, when you bring these dogs in, it's never
a dog problem. It's always a people problem." Not always, but he was pretty close. Some provided memorable
experiences and some dogs gave me surprises, but they were always good dogs, like Lassie, who came to
me at age 10 years, found dumped on a highway. She never stopped searching for her car, or her children.
She adored children. Any child. Would cry and wave to children, begging for hugs. In PetsMart I watched a
mom let a toddler, new to walking and wobbly, head for her with mom's encouraging "go see the doggie."
Not a good move with a strange dog, but there was no risk with Lassie. She grinned, wagged madly, gave
that high whine of joy, and threw herself to the floor with an audible thump, then flattened small and still
to let that child crawl all over her. I think that was the happiest I ever saw her. Then there was James, an
old man who was dumped in a kill shelter at age 8 because his family was moving. He went to heal the
broken heart of a little girl whose last dog gave chase to something while on a leash and towed them both
into the path of a truck. Dog was killed. Girl was scraped up and traumatized. James was quiet, dignified,
patient, wanted hugs and tea parties, and would NEVER endanger that child. And he had the funniest
trick -- if you asked him "Where's Timmy? Is Timmy in the well?" He would go into this barking, capering
dance that made everyone laugh. There was Chance, nearly starved to death and abused, and while still
new to having food again was so overwhelmed by the smell of hamburgers that he tried to climb through
Wendy's drive-through window. Got the front end inside with one lunge, with one hind foot on the horn and
the other wedged in my bra. Poor traumatized boy, he was so embarrassed once he realized what he'd done.
Fortunately the employees understood. They gave him his own Kid's Meal. And then there was funny Kayley,
whose favorite napping spot was on top of the washing machine. Never figured that one out.
Collies are all different, but all amazing in their own way. And while they aren't Lassie right out of the box,
they all have the potential to be a Lassie. My personal feeling is that you can't go wrong with a collie
Skye and the white merle collies
