An elderly (even more "elderly" than the two of us) couple lives across the street from us. The entrance to their gated driveway is lush with beautiful flowers. Behind the gate is their house, which is also home to two border collies. One is, like her owners, quite elderly. The other is a little younger, and much more energetic.
Three days a week the lady of the house waits at the gate for the little bus from the Senior Center to pick her up and take her to her exercise classes. She leans on her cane waiting, the dogs pacing around her feet. When the bus arrives she climbs carefully up the steps. The dogs stand for a minute behind the gate watching her go. Then they walk resignedly back up the driveway toward the house.
The older collie spends most of her time sleeping in a comfortable spot under the oak trees. Not so the younger. Every vehicle that drives up our street is fair game. She waits until it is even with the fence that surrounds their property and then gives chase. Leaning into the run, she speeds toward the end of the property line, pulling up short just before the fence. Mission accomplished, she trots back with a self-satisfied grin and waits for the next round.
She takes great delight in barking furiously at dogs walking by with their owners, restrained by leashes and strong arms they have no way of reaching her. Those of us who go for walks, get the same treatment. I've tried talking to her in my sweet, can't we be friends voice, but she will have no part of that. It is her duty to protect and defend.
She is a busy little collie, that one, but about an hour before her mistress is due home all activity ceases. She walks to farthest corner of their acreage, faces the road she knows the bus will travel and sits. A short distance behind her, the older one slowly comes and lies down.
Neither moves. They have been about the business of life, but that is over now. They simply wait. There is no doubt in their little doggie minds that she will return. They are confident in her love. They wait, looking with confident expectation for her return.
Joining my sweet friend Laura today: