time I was 12. Both really sad. Losing your dogs at 12 sucks. I didn't want another dog because I didn't want to go through losing them again. Well when I was 14 one of my sister's who was a single Mom, bought a sheltie she couldn't take care of so she dropped it off at our house and just walked away. This was at a time when I was really working on my game in the backyard, shooting hoops, throwing tennis balls off the brick house, etc...this dog and I immediately butted heads as it chased every shot I took and nearly stepped on it several times.

I got stern with it and told it not to chase me or follow me. Something weird happened. It listened. It only took one time to tell this dog what to do and that was good enough for the dog. This wasn't the case with my first dogs who were kind of dumb and spastic. Well my other sister started to care for this dog and once again we had a dog. This dog was so smart it honestly felt like a human. Well a couple of years later my sister graduated and moved to Cali. I had to take care of the dog.

One day I went out to the backyard and the dog was gone. There was also stuff missing from the yard. Somebody stole a few things and either took the dog or the dog tried to follow them. The dog had a collar with proper info and we put some signs up. I couldn't bring myself to call my sister in Cali. About a week later we got a call from someone that said they saw our dog crossing a very busy street about 2 miles from us and they tried to get it but couldn't. They had seen a photo. That gave us some hope. A month went by and we heard nothing. We searched everywhere. Then one Saturday morning we got a call from a woman that said she had our dog. I jumped in my car and sped to the house. It was about 5 miles from our house. When I got there I noticed the house had a fence and deck identical to our house and they found the dog asleep on their deck.

That dog ran to me just like the movies. It had been 5 weeks on its own, surviving. Skinny and tired I took it home. I then called my sister and told her the saga. My sister returned home soon after that and got married and took the dog with her to her new house. I left home and did my thing. That dog had a way of listening and communicating like a human. I would see it all the time at my sisters house or when she'd bring it to my parents. 15 years later the dog died of old age. My sister called me and wanted to bury it on some property we owned in the mountains where the dog loved to go and play. Problem was it was the middle of winter. She was heartbroken. So I told her I would go with her. And so we hiked it. I carried that dog in a box 3 miles in waist deep snow. Sounds made up I know, but this is all true. We buried that dog in its favorite spot.

20 years later we still talk about that dog often. I'm not a dog person. Haven't owned one since. But I can't deny the power of a good dog.