I’m editing my book on Frieda (out in 2013), “Frieda And Me: Second Chances,” and I’m thinking a lot of this loving and great hearted creature, how she brought Maria and I together, how she protects us, how we protect Maria together, and she and I are growing older together. Frieda is mellowing, perhaps more than me.

She used to want to kill me, to keep me away from her beloved person. Now we find we are moving together in so many ways. She used to chase all of the animals on the farm, now she protects them. She loves to sit in the front yard and guard us. I love writing about her, I love the way she helped Maria to trust me, I am grateful she didn’t eat me when she had so many chances and some good reasons.

I can share a bit of her remarkable story here — I will save most of it for the book. How she saved a family from a fire, how she was abandoned in the Adirondacks and lived there for years, how it took a team of shelter workers a year to finally catch here, and how she challenged every single idea I ever had about training.

Frieda spent her first year on Bedlam Farm in a barn, she was so wild and aggressive. The book recounts that story. Now, as I write this, Frieda is in autumn, and she sits by my side, a writing dog, a loving dog. She has her moments, but she is a good girl with the biggest and bravest heart I have ever seen on a dog.