During my mother’s illness she was constantly asking for a puppy she could look after and hold whilst she was bed bound and she particularly wanted a rough collie, because one of the first dogs she ever knew had been a rough collie called Scottie.
The first one we found we lost because I couldn’t get to the lady in time and it was tri-colour which mum was not so fond of as a sable, and the second one we found was ready to go so I went up with some friends to collect her. Ned drove with Jackie and Emily helping and we collected a charming fur-ball which the Emily cradled all the way home and mum showed immediate pleasure though she didn’t look after her at all.
My American friends didn’t have any faith in the name Queenie and christened her Colleen (they thought it hilarious I should be shouting Queenie across the fields). Although she isn’t the brightest of dogs she is very loving and she takes delight in simple things and is one of the few dogs I have lived with who doesn’t care what the weather is like, she is going out. She loved the recent snow and bit it as she danced around. She swims and is very friendly to other dogs though she can growl back if growled at.
She is two this January – where does the time go – and finally mum has warmed to her and feeds her from her bed.