Our girl

Our “girl,” the excessively nice German Shepherd that lives next door, walked out to say hello when I got the mail, as she always does. She’s moving very slowly today, and I shed a few tears as I drove up the driveway. I love this dog, and will miss her very much when she passes. Wish I could remember how old she is (and her name; it's Japanese and never sticks with me). I'll ask Jim next time I see him.

I still remember the time I brought Fallon to the riding ring to groom and lunge her, and the dog ran up the driveway, barking. Fallon freaked out, snapped her halter, and ran around the paddock like an idiot. She wouldn't calm down, so I just sat down on the huge boulder in the ring, and waited her out. It was 30 minutes before I could calm her down and catch her. I found that halter a few weeks ago, when I emptied out my tack trunk and cleaned all the strap goods. I must have saved it for the brass nameplate.

This picture was taken on our patio in a long-ago May, when the rhododendrons were in full bloom. Fallon had just had a bath and grooming, and you can see her dappled coat.