We call Fate the Joy Dog now. We were explaining to some new friends over the dinner the other night how drained we were at the end of last winter. Simon, Frieda and Lenore had all died within a few months of each other, and the farm and the animals struggled through one of the worst cold weather periods in recent history. Our frost-free water line froze and the animals, surrounded by ice and snow, began eating the barn.

Storm after storm, cold  days and nights. Then came Fate, courtesy of the remarkable human being Dr. Karen Thompson, one of the best breeders of border collies I have ever known,  and one of the most honest and loving human beings. I called Fate a lot of names at first, but then we settled on the Joy Dog, she brings so much enthusiasm and spirit to life, that we saw it was just what we needed. And as you know, I believe we get the dogs we need, they often sense what we need them to be.

Fate brings a joy to life wherever she goes, it is evident working with her and the sheep, playing with her in the yard, walking with her on country roads, and also watching her dash through the deep woods, which she loves, bobbing and weaving among the trees, circling in wider and wider turns before coming back to us and bursting out onto the road.

I had a big lens with me this morning and  caught her sailing through the forest, seeming to fly rather than run. She slept in Maria’s studio for awhile, then I took her out briefly to work on her outruns around the sheep. She has finally keeled over and is sleeping by my feet. Fate is a mystical dog, she has come to awaken us after the winter and remind us to love our life. Also that life and death are not different things, but the same thing in so many ways. After darkness, light, after death, life.