The life of the border collie centers around work. We live on a busy road, but the sheep are to the rear of the house, and whenever the dogs come out, they rush to the pasture gate, sit down and wait.  We put them out back last, but mistakenly left the rear gate open, the doors came out and sat by the gate for several hours before we discovered our mistake.

That could have been a tragedy or serious problem for many of the dogs I have had. I didn’t worry about it when Maria said the gate was open, I just went out the other side to the pasture gate, and there they both were, sitting patiently.

They come right to their office every morning, they live for it, they both watch my shoes to see if I am putting on the farm boots or not, and if so, they rush to the back door, then to the gate. Rose did this at the other farm. I have known a lot of crazy border collies who chase cars and trucks – Fate sometimes flirts with that on our walks – but I love border collies in part because they are like me.

I can’t run as fast, but I am obsessive, I am always thinking about my work, picking up my camera, thinking about a blog post, a photo, a chapter in my book. That is my life really, that and Maria and the animals here. I  sometimes wish I were different, but not really. The dogs help remind me of who I really am.

I love them for what they are, perhaps I ought to do the same for myself.