I've always had a collie or collie mix named "Shelly". It started when I got my first dog when I was 6, a Sheltie, so we named her "Shelly." And since then we've always had a dog named that, although we'd vary the spelling, "Shellie," "Shelley." My favorite was the one I call, "Old Shelly" (a collie, golden lab, shepherd mix)...she lived 17 years before the one we have now. She was handed to me as a puppy in the entrance to a mall, and developed some intestinal disorder for which the vet had me cooking her fresh rice-and-beef meals as part of the treatment, so we bonded immediately. She was the best friend I ever had! Sadly, in 1992, defying the degeneration of old age, I had to have her put down. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in my life! I hugged her while she was injected and cried, "I love you Shelley!", and she went away in instant calmness...I guess she was ready. She rests in my garden now...the March soil was too hard anywhere else. I'm looking at her picture on the wall as I write this. Every March 21 I recite the poem I wrote for her over her gravesite. I'll always miss her!
Now I have Shellie ( a tiny Shetland Sheepdog), Milo (a husky/collie mix...what a handful!), and Ginger Cat ( a feral kitten that showed up in my yard 2 years ago and adopted me!...never thought I'd ever be a cat person).
