I have come to think of Bedlam Farm as a magical place, and no part of it was more magical than the meadow across from the farmhouse. Rose worked that meadow, and then Red and it was perhaps the perfect place for a border collie to herd sheep, a fenced seven-acre meadow. The sheep had plenty of room to run, and Red had plenty of space to do his beloved and spectacular outruns. The town of West Hebron settles in at the bottom of the hill, and there I felt as if I were in a different dimension, yet always part of this world. I loved that farm, yet it was time to leave it. I leave a piece of my heart and soul there, always.