Sometimes I think Izzy is a ghost, or a spirit. He drifts from place to place, and it is hard to remember that first image of him, running in circle after circle, for years, out in a farm fence, by himself and Emma, another border collie. He was a bit of a wild animal, and caused me much trouble until he abruptly decided one day to be my dog, life my life with me, and help make it possible.
  Izzy is, perhaps, a ghost, a spirit sent to haunt me and walk with me to better places.