Oh gosh, I’ve had wonderful dogs all my life and now I’m 70. Which great story to tell? I have several but will tell only one this time. Our English Shepard , Freckles came to us by chance, and she didn’t like having to give up her first loving owner…so she tried to find him and left us several times. Neighbors called us and we found her several times as far away as 4 and 7 miles. She was nice to us and our two young boys but she was very unhappy. She finally left again about Dec. 15. and this time we received no calls. We were sad but hoped that somehow she would make her way to New York and find her beloved master. Not much chance since it is 1500 miles but stranger things have been done by dogs. We had a terrible winter that year in Nebraska. Cold…so cold. Snow…lots of it. One day in early April, I looked up from my work to glance out the window and there stood Freckles….one foot in the air to take her next step, but pausing just beyond the gate into the yard. I could not believe my eyes, but I screamed to my little 3 year old son, to come quick, Freckles is back! She heard me scream and as we ran out the back door…..she turned and bounded toward us but never stopped until she made it into the porch and literally tumbled onto her old bed which we had not had the heart to move since she left. We all cried when we realized the terrible condition she was in. A bullet hole through one leg just below the knee joint and litterally covered solid with mud and cockle burs on her underside and legs. She was so thin….she definitely had been on her own all winter…four and a half months! She was so glad to see us….never again did she appear depressed or missing her previous owner….she was ours now….or better still we were hers! Over the years she was a faithfull friend to our three children….protecting them at least three different times that we observed, when she thought they might be in danger. She lived to be 16 and was nearly deaf and had poor vision. One Mother’s Day we went to the city for dinner, and came home very late. Next day our oldest son Eric, 16 found her on his way to school, in the ditch near the road by our house. She had been hit by a car. Later that morning the neighbor came by and was in tears because he had hit her with a trailor that was behind his pickup….she didn’t see it and darted out too soon. He felt so bad because she wasn’t dead, but very injured…and he had to get his rifle and put her out of her pain. We buried her in the grove and put a marker there for her. I know I couldn’t have raised my boys without her loving protection and care.

Ginny from Nebraska