I wrote once that a dog of mine was a Lifetime Dog, by which i meant a dog that comes along once in a lifetime to mark an important passage, guide us through life, comfort and accompany us in an almost mystical and spiritual way. Many people wrote to me and asked if there could be more than one Lifetime Dog in the life of a human. I see now that of course there can be more than one, I have had more than one. Orson, Rose, Lenore, Izzy.

Now I have another. Each of these dogs shaped my life in a particular way. Orson brought me out of my other life and to the country. Rose helped me survive there, Lenore kept love alive for me, and Izzy and I explored the meaning of mortality in our hospice work.

Then Red, a great gift presented to me by my friend, the respected border collie trainer and breeder Dr. Karen Thompson. Red is not like any other dog I have ever had, and I love him in a different way than I have ever loved a dog. Red is almost always with me now. He goes in the car wherever I go, lying quietly on the back seat. He sits by me in the gym. He lies at my feet while I write. He comes with me to the dentist and the doctor. He has never damaged or disrupted or intruded on any part of my life.

He is welcome everywhere, he is appropriate every where. He is a therapy dog, he works with young veterans, back from Iraq and Afghanistan, recovering from the wars the angry old men always send them off to. He opens them up, comforts them. He watches me, he moves before I do, he seems to know where I am going, even to my study

Red has never been on a leash. He is a beautifully trained sheepdog, he works with precision, dedication, focus. He is appropriate in all things. I never have to wonder where he is, he is always at my side. When I am sick, he sits at the foot of the bed with me, after my heart surgery, he sat with me for days.

I love all of my dogs, you can see how much I love Fate. But there will only be one Red, and he may, after all, be the Lifetime Dog I had in mind. When I need him to, he waits. When I move from one room to another, he is there.  He asks nothing of me – not even to do herding dog work, but waits for me to live in my life, he, more than any other dog, lives it with me, understands. I can’t think of a time when Red has defied me, even annoyed. He seems to accept and anticipate me, and I have not been accepted by all that many people in my life.

So I am thinking about this idea of the Lifetime Dog, zigging and zagging back and forth sometimes. There has never been a Red. There will never be another.

The truly special dogs are spirit dogs, they connect with our souls, they understand us without words, they become what we need them to become, our spirits fuse. They each mark a passage of our life, they are the magical helpers that guide us along the hero journey. At the first Bedlam Farm, a shaman taught me that when their work is done, they find a way to leave, and we must not mourn them, it is disrespectful to their work and love.

Red has given himself over to me and my life, something the great working dogs do. Rose did it also, although in a very different way. Red is a Lifetime Dog, a Spirit Dog, I am so grateful for his presence in my life.