Every morning, I give thanks to Dr. Karen Thompson for her selflessness and generosity for giving Red to me last year. Karen refused to accept any money for him, she said God wanted him to be my dog. I thought this was strange, God not ever being a part of my dog life, at least not knowingly. But Karen was right, and Karen embodies the meaning of faith and spirit. I can’t really imagine life with Red, don’t remember it, and I have had some wonderful dogs.

Like the most powerful dog relationships, Red and I seem to move through life together. He is not my best friend, or my soulmate, partner. He is not my confidante or my therapist. I think humans do better at that, at least for me and dogs do best in their right place. Red has not saved my life or defined it. He is simply a wonderful dog, a soul dog, a working dog and a sweet dog. He and I are inseparable, we are rarely apart, and he not only works the farm with me, he goes to the doctor, the dentist, the book and hardware store, the massage therapist and chiropractor with me.  Generally, he is with the sheep, by my side, in the car. He is loved everywhere, a shining spirit, one of those dogs who are appropriate with everyone, reliable everywhere, so in sync with me that a simple look will stop him or move him or get  him to come along. He melts hearts, and perhaps because he is Irish, he is an inveterate skirt-chaser and flirt.

Our relationship is beyond words. I soak up his joy of work, his love of life, his sweetness and passion for service. He brightens my life every day. What a gift Karen has given me, and hopefully, him. Karen and I share one thing in our love of dogs – sometimes you love them the most when you let them go.