You "try" to out think them...

As we all know, Border Collies will think more than we know.  Just when you have them figured out, they will out think you, outsmart you and be one step in front of you.  I will tell you, there are degrees of "smarts" in them and some have a "1" on the "10" scale and some have a "10" score.

Poor Doc, he is the most loving dog that there ever was and will love you to death, licking on you, trying to climb in your lap and making a nuisance of his affection but I don't mind unless I'm trying to tie my shoes.  He will love you until he knocks you down.

There are basically 5 types of dog personalities.

The Confident Dog.   Clancy, He is a natural born leader of his pack. He’s a team player and more than ready to take charge of a situation. A confident dog can also be dominant. Harsh discipline or training methods with this personality type could cause him to show aggressive tendencies or become more willful. This dog feels secure in his surroundings and has a self-assuredness that shows in his body language.  We if you knew Clancy, this fits him.

The Independent Dog  Shepp, The independent personality is perfectly happy being away from the crowd. He needs to be given space, and trying to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do will backfire. You can easily lose this dog’s trust and respect if you expose him to heavy handed treatment.

The Laid Back, Happy Dog  Doc, He is always ready to greet everyone he meets, whether he knows them or not. He gets along well with other dogs and cats. Dogs with a happy personality that haven’t been taught basic commands, like sit or down, are apt to get into trouble for jumping up on people when they greet them. This dog can become overly excited, especially around children, and a large dog could scare them.

The Shy/Timid Dog Meggie, she needs an owner who can give calm, consistent and patient understanding, with a sensitivity to his needs and feelings. A shy dog doesn’t like being in uncomfortable situations or around sudden or loud noises. Yelling and harsh training methods or discipline can cause this type of personality to shut down, and you risk losing his trust. Heavy-handed treatment can push this dog to become more insecure, fearful or aggressive. It’s important to give a shy/timid dog plenty of opportunities to succeed to help boost his self-confidence, and daily exercise to stimulate his mind.

The Adaptable Dog This Annie.  She is eager to please, and the easiest of the five personalities to train. Not as outgoing as the happy personality, this dog gets along well with other dogs, cats and people. She’s perfectly happy to follow the commands of us, who she sees as his leader. This is an easy to control dog – cooperative, gentle and affectionate – that makes a great family pet. The adaptable personality would be a good candidate as a therapy dog.

 One that was not mentioned is the "Pain in the Butt Dog"

A very difficult week…

A day late with the blog and I will tell you, I am exhausted.  It has been both a mental and physically exhausting week.  As fall quickly approached and the choirs are piling up, I was running out of time and know not everything would get done.  At the first of the week and as I do each year, I will populate some of our forest with maple trees.  Brown County Indiana is known for the fall colors that are produced throughout the fall by the many colors of the fall tree foliage.  When we first built the house, we planted many varieties of maple trees for that very reason.  As time has moved on, the trees have grown, and in the spring they send out seed pods.  After sprouting and leaving the saplings alone for a few years letting them get a few feet tall, I will move them to various parts of the forest to produce even more trees on their own with lots of fall color.  The falls rains have been pretty severe this year throwing me behind schedule, but we are making progress.  We have had visitors at the farm along with planting new grass and cleaning gutters, but we will manage. 

Clancy’s Dream has been overwhelming with paperwork and meetings, and at times I will be at my desk for eight to ten hours with paperwork and phone calls.  If it weren't for Leah Lamb, we would never make it as she is a God Send for us, taking care of all the internet work and getting us on Amazon along with working on several other sights promoting Clancy’s Dream.

With everything going on, as most know, we took Gabby to the vet for what we thought was a simple removal of a fatty tumor.  The news was devastating when we found out it was cancer.  With all of this going on, I purchased a new computer for the foundation and have had nothing but trouble with it.  After many three to four hour conversation with Dell and replacing the week-old hard drive, it has been determined that it needs to go back to Dell for repair and it’s only one week old, always something…

With all of this going on, and while in my safe zone in my recliner Sunday evening, I saw Gabby across the room staring at me.  She looked so pitiful with her bandage, and I sensed she needed me.  I only had to tap my armrest, and she came running to me and dove into my lap.  In just a few seconds, Abbie also joined me in the recliner and curled up right next to me.  What I see is two sets of eyes looking so intensely at me and soothing my mind from all the activity racing through my head and in an instant, all is good in the world. 

Two dogs with cancer are at peace without a worry in the world and they are living the dream, and at times I wish I could be like them.  No problems, live to play and eat, sleeping well and playing hard and enjoying a good nap many times during the day.  All of which I need to do.  I can’t begin to tell you how they all improve my life just by wanting me but what no one knows, is that I need them when my life is upside down…   Ken

Joanie Simpson, a 61-year-old animal-lover, entered an emergency room last year complaining of severe chest pain. She was airlifted to a hospital in Houston, where hospital staff were notified to be prepared to treat the onset of a heart attack. But that wasn’t what Simpson was going through. She wasn’t suffering from a heart attack, she didn’t have a heart condition, and she wasn’t dealing with a bad case of heartburn.

The cause of her trauma was simple: Her dog had died. Simpson was later diagnosed with Takotsubo cardiomyopathy, or “broken heart syndrome,” an incredible condition wherein a person’s heart physically feels like it’s having a heart attack due to emotional turmoil. The condition, which has no other physical symptoms aside from the pain itself, can be fatal.

Simpson’s recently deceased pet was an adorable Yorkshire terrier, 9 years old and lively. Her name was Meha, and she was Simpson’s best friend. The dog, ironically, passed away due to congestive heart failure.

“I was close to inconsolable,” Simpson told The Washington Post. “I really took it really, really hard.”

Simpson explained that Meha had been like a daughter to her; when Simpson and her husband grilled on the weekends, Meha was cooked her own hamburger.

“The kids were grown and out of the house, so she was our little girl,” she reminisced.

Meha’s health had been declining for some time. Joanie Simpson’s health, on the other hand, had been in the clear. When the hospital conducted an X-ray to locate a potential clogged artery or coronary obstruction, her scan was flawless. The pain was her only symptom.

Simpson continues to take heart medication as a precaution, but has had no other episodes or cause for duress.

Losing a pet really is like losing a best friend. To treat your loved one to only the best quality care,

 Confetti

Every dog rescue affects me, but when the situation is terrible, and they have a rough start, it hits even harder. Confetti’s story will be shared in updates and pieces to help follow the journey over time.
Biscuit and Confetti Spaghetti are at the top of the list. Over a year ago, many lives changed. Here is the story of Confetti, pulled from a puppy mill over a year ago, to follow step by step.
Immediately after her rescue from the puppy mill, Confetti was hospitalized.

This rescue trip was tough; I was unsure what to expect. When I arrived at the animal hospital in Louisville, KY, it was busy. Eventually, I was called in: to see Confetti, a puppy just rescued. After waiting, Confetti arrived. Alone, I cradled her and gently rubbed her all over. Being at the hospital for over a week has been hard on her. She’s endured dramatic changes: vomiting and diarrhea have improved, but last night her symptoms returned and worsened today. Adjustments were made, and we hope she’ll recover. Visitors are welcome; I spoke with doctors and nurses. If you go, hold her, love her, and encourage her to come home soon!

Coming from a background of nothing, let’s help her have everything.
Confetti… also known as Confetti Spaghetti

Confetti, a young dog, was rescued from a puppy mill with little hope of survival. Something seemed off during her foster care because she kept falling ill. I received a call late one evening, and after hearing her symptoms, I told the foster to take her to the emergency room at a veterinarian’s office. This could be serious. Many tests were performed; some conditions were ruled out, while others remained unclear. Expecting her to only stay a day or two was unrealistic; she ended up staying nearly two weeks. It was a 24-hour vet hospital, and I received updates several times a day, even at night.
After my 12:32 am update late in Confetti’s hospital stay, hope was slim. It looked unlikely she would survive the night; her condition had worsened. I prepared to visit the hospital the next morning, expecting to bring her home to be with Clancy. Sleep was restless.

Confetti struggled but survived that critical night. The next morning, she underwent canine endotracheal intubation, where air was gently pumped into her lungs through an ET tube, which improved her condition; she began eating and drinking, seeming to start her recovery. Throughout her hospital stay, Confetti received minimal human contact, so the doctor suggested that she have visitors. We quickly arranged for visits to boost her spirits.

A mother and her young daughter from the neighborhood wanted to visit. “Of course,” I said. After that visit, Evelyn, the daughter, wanted to see Confetti again and made another visit a few days later. Shortly afterward, Confetti seemed much better; human contact appeared to lift her spirits, and soon, she was eating and following the doctor around the clinic during her rounds.
Confetti became ready for release from the hospital but still needed a caretaker for necessary home treatments and several check-ups scheduled in the coming weeks, after her nearly two-week hospital stay.

Some of the updates I got throughout the week
The Vet hospital was open 24 hours a day. I was continually updated in the middle of the night when they were less busy.
UPDATE: The vet called again just before midnight; she managed to eat a few small bites of chicken. Hopefully, this indicates a turning point. There will be more tests and bloodwork until the morning.
UPDATE: The little girl has been at the vet for nearly a week. Last night, I got a call saying she had eaten some small bites yesterday morning, but had thrown them up last night. This morning, she tried again. Hopefully…
UPDATE: After seven days at the hospital, some things are improving for Confetti, while others worsen. She is eating a little, but her pneumonia has gotten worse. Breathing treatments have continued for several days, and medications have been changed again.
UPDATE: On a visit, I was taken into a room and waited for her to arrive. This little bundle came to me, and after the nurse left, I cradled Confetti in my arms and gently rubbed her tiny body. Being there for over a week has been hard on both of us. She has gone from one extreme to another. The throwing up and diarrhea are a bit better, but last night, she experienced some symptoms, and today, she has double the symptoms. Changes were made, and hopefully, she will bounce back!
Confetti Update 10-22-24. I just received an update from the doctor about Confetti. Her eating has improved significantly, and her bowel movements are getting better. One lung has cleared on X-rays, but the other shows Empyema, also known as pyothorax or purulent pleuritis. Treatment involves gently blowing air into her mouth roughly every hour to help expand her lungs. If her lungs haven’t expanded by late afternoon, she will be lightly sedated and intubated by inserting an endotracheal tube (ET) into her mouth and into her airway (trachea) to keep it open. X-rays will be taken frequently to monitor her progress.
Everyone at the clinic loves this little dog and is rooting for her!

Mom, Dad, and Evelyn were fostering Confetti. It was a perfect fit because they lived near the vet hospital and could continue Confetti's home treatments and schedule follow-up appointments. It was a win-win situation; it doesn’t get better than this, or does it?
Unknown to most, Evelyn has autism and sensory issues. I received this a few days ago from Evelyn’s mom.

Note from Mom.
Confetti got her Emotional Support Animal letter approved since she’s helped Evelyn so much with the autism and sensory issues, among other things. She just left the therapy clinic, and they were amazed by the videos and stories. Even her speech sounded much improved, they said. The little crazy dog is making a difference in the world!

A small dog from an unwanted puppy mill was surrendered to Clancy’s Dream along with 15 other puppies and found a safe home. By God’s grace, they were saved, and we just happened to be in the right place at the right time. The family and Evelyn had lost their dog Ben less than a year earlier. I’ve always believed that things happen for a reason, and they do!
Norton Children’s Medical Group

12/6/24
To Whom It May Concern

Evelyn is a patient at this clinic and under our care for Autism Spectrum Disorder. As a licensed mental health APRN, I have evaluated and assessed the functional limitations that Evelyn’s autism imposes, such as anxiety, frustration, and stress. In order to enhance her ability to cope with everyday challenges, she is prescribed an emotional support dog to reside with her on a Full-Term basis. The ESA should accompany her in daily activities as her symptoms are alleviated by the soothing presence of her dog, Confetti.
Sincerely

A little dog with no hope changed the life of a very precious little girl and her family.
Clancy changed my life and the lives of thousands of other Border Collies. It was Clancy’s Dream. 

Biscuit

 Biscuit’s story is a little unusual. She was part of the 79 Bowling Green Border Collies that were confiscated from a breeder. She had already been adopted and had a hold tag on her kennel before we got to the shelter, so we didn't take her. A few months later, I got that call for help again.

August 21, 2023:

I was sitting at a Hooser Football game in Bloomington, IN, when I received a call, "Can you help?" The caller explained the issue, and the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together. When we pulled 38 dogs from Bowling Green, Kentucky, a few months ago, we visited every kennel where they were being held. One dog caught the attention of one of our members, but she had already been spoken for. This was good news because she had been saved, adopted, and found a home.

The caller explained that a dog from the same group we picked up had been recovered after being hit by a car, suffering lacerations to her neck and both feet, which left her unable to walk. The owner was contacted, but decided to relinquish her because they couldn't afford the medical bills.

"Can you help?" was answered in just a few seconds, and after that first phone call, Clancy's Dream was ready to step in and assist in any way possible, bringing her into our fold.

Indiana Football lost, but Biscuit, the little Border Collie we originally wanted, was on his way home.

This journey was long, difficult, costly, and extremely stressful because of the injuries and rehabilitation Biscuit needed to return to daily life. After the shelter called, arrangements were made to pick up Biscuit, and Kim Pike Wiseman drove her to the farm. After parking her car, she turned to me and, with a sad look, said, "You won't believe this." Having seen many things in my years of law enforcement, I thought I was prepared for anything. The back door was opened, and my hands immediately flew to my mouth. "Oh my God, this poor dog. How can this be?" Tears instantly filled my eyes, and my heart broke. "This poor little dog."

Biscuit was skinny, weak, and underfed, with both legs bandaged, and couldn't walk. She had been hit by a car and was found sitting alone in a field when animal control rescued her. She was microchipped, and the owner was contacted, but they wanted nothing to do with her, so we were called. One leg had nerve damage and was useless, while the other had torn skin on the foot with bones showing. I worried she might lose both legs, which had always been on my mind.

Time would tell, and we started trying to put her back together the best we could. The next day, a vet visit was necessary, and her leg was restitched and bandaged, but two days later, it rejected, and the skin came off. Cleaning the wound several times a day and applying bandages was necessary, but at times, Biscuit would pull them off, and we would start again. Many people offered toys, puzzles, and medical assistance. State-of-the-art medical procedures were performed, and some had just come on the market and were provided at no cost. Every week for over three months, Lou Anne Denny and I would make a two-and-a-half-hour round trip with Biscuit to the vet for therapy, and usually, Biscuit was in Lou Anne's lap.

In mid-December, the Doctor and I set a timeline for Biscuit's overall health. On Christmas Eve, I sent this email to the Doctor. "In my opinion, because of my experience with the bandage changes on her injured leg with Biscuit, I believe we should move forward with amputation. I now think we are doing more harm than good. I understand others are trying to help with different options, but they are not seeing the reality of her situation. If she were my dog, I would go ahead and amputate the leg. The Doctor agreed, and on January 4, the surgery was completed, Biscuit pulled through, and once she recovered, she went to her permanent home.

I knew this time would come...

We knew it would eventually happen. We had a meet-and-greet for Biscuit and her potential new owners at our house. Of course, Biscuit was an angel and hopped onto the couch with them. As usual, she stood on her back legs and placed her only paw around their neck, just like she always did with me. They arranged to meet us at the veterinarian's office, where they could ask the doctor any questions about her future care.

Biscuit was going home, and it broke my heart. Elaine and I discussed what needed to go with her. The blue puzzle, which I didn't think she would like but did, her toys, blanket, presents, stuffed animals, and special food were sent with her and carefully packed so she’d have them in her new home. After gathering a few things, it quieted down last night. Sitting on the couch, I said, "This time tomorrow, she will be gone."

Before she left, and as she does several times a day, she ran to me while I sat at the kitchen table. I knew it was her because I heard the kerplunk, kerplunk, kerplunk of a three-legged dog running. She got close, slipped under my arm, and stretched up on her hind legs so I could rub her head while she placed her one paw on my cheek. She closed her eyes and pointed her nose toward the sky as if she smelled heaven, and I knew I did. I often wonder if she will remember us in a few months. I hope she doesn't, because she is in a new home with loving parents, but I wish that when my time comes, and I cross "that" bridge, a little three-legged Border Collie runs kerplunking up to me. When Little Biscuit gets close, she goes under my arm, stretching up on her hind legs so I can rub her little head again, and again Little Biscuit puts her paw on my cheek. She closes her eyes and points her nose toward the sky, smelling heaven; I know then, I'm home too. How can one dog touch so many people...She is a spark that melts hearts and focuses our vision on what a rescue is: Never give up, never give in, and know your mission. It's all about the dogs!

The thing about Biscuit is that she was so broken when I first saw her that I honestly didn't think she would survive. The spark was gone from her eyes and her spirit. She couldn't walk on her injured and battered legs; she was lifeless, and nothing seemed to matter, and I knew her future looked bleak. We probably took her to the vet about 30 times, and some visits brought uncertainty and bad news. Good news was not in her future.

After months of rehab and trials with devices, along with cutting-edge technology, it was decided to remove her useless leg. Biscuit was Clancy's Dream dog, and we all carried, coddled, and loved her. Not only did she need it, but we did too. She was a lifesaver to those who touched her and still is. All vets will tell you that every dog is born with three legs and a spare; little did we know how true they were. Things happen for a reason, and some will never know. Biscuit taught Clancy’s Dream what a rescue can do, should do, and will do. Little Biscuit went to her real home with Heather Almond and Mary Helen, and we see her often.

"Rescue is not about what we have done, what we should have done, or what we could have done; it's about what we can do and what we will do." This is Rescue!

Not once or twice but five times.

Several days ago, I received a message that said, "Just making sure you got a little package from me? Should have been yesterday or today?" I replied, "Not yet, our mail runs slow, I will let you know." 

It's not uncommon for us to receive packages, but I never expected this one to bring me to tears and flood my thoughts with both painful and happy memories of one of my puppies... 

In November of 2009, Shucks Border Collies had a litter of puppies for sale from Clancy and Molly. Back in November of that year, I got a call from someone when I had placed an ad in the newspaper for puppies. At that time, the internet wasn't as popular, and we only depended on the newspaper and our landline phone. A great guy, or so it seemed, called and wanted a new pup as a gift for his step-children. He made a deposit on a male pup, sent me a check, and told me he would pick up the pup around Christmas. This is when the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The phone call ended, and as the time approached, my mind started to change. This is not a good idea.

The day before Christmas, I called him to say I wasn't going to do it and that I was sorry. He immediately started begging me, saying I would ruin their Christmas because the boys were expecting their gifts. He promised he would do anything—training, exercising the dog, teaching, playing, and everything else for the dog's happiness. He said he would keep me updated on the activities and fun they were having. Begrudgingly, I said OK, as long as you keep your part of the bargain." When the family arrived to pick up "Bodhi," they didn't exactly look like the perfect family. Sadly, Bodhi went home with them, and although I wished for the best, I knew differently...

Days passed, then weeks and months, until nearly a year later, I got the call. "I am bringing that dog back; he's good for nothing." A few hours later, he pulled into the driveway, opened the door, and let Bodhi out after taking him off a lead where his head was tied and pinned against the door because he chased the windshield wipers when they were on. "Don't touch his neck; he will bite you," he said. This was something I soon found out.

Bodhi seemed to remember a little, but he hated men. However, he tolerated me. Maybe he remembered me loving on him, singing to him, and all of our pups every night before bed.

Off to the kennel we went after a very brief visit. As I sat on the floor next to Bodhi, observing his moods and demeanor, I was certain Bodhi was damaged. When I saw he had two collars on, I knew he only needed one and went to remove one. "He will bite you," went through my mind, and he did. Yes, I should have listened, but I didn't step back. We had a come-to-Jesus talk, and Bodhi knew he wasn't in charge. I took the collar off not because it was hurting him, but to show him that things would be different and that he was loved—and they were. For five days, I left him alone; he would come in the house but stay his distance. One morning, I sat in the middle of the floor, looking forward, not turning my head toward him. He wanted attention and was curious. At one point, I could see him out of the side of my eye, and he got close and backed away, testing the waters. A few minutes later, he approached my side again and licked my ear. He trusted me enough that he wouldn't get hit, and our relationship changed forever.

When we raised Border Collies, we were very careful about where they went, but 25 years ago, you didn't have the internet for research like you do now. Bodhi slipped through the cracks, and we were now on a mission to find the right home for him. We spread the word in our dog community that he was available and soon found a home. I met his new owner, and they bonded immediately. It was a single lady who wanted a good dog to keep her company. A few weeks later, he came back, and we started over. One day, I got a call from a woman with a horse farm who needed a Border Collie. A few days later, I met her, and Bodhi went to their horse farm. It seemed like a perfect fit; they have land, animals, and space to run — what a win-win. Despite the setbacks, I was determined to find Bodhi a loving and suitable home.

Months later, I got a call from the lady at the horse farm where Bodhi was. They regretfully told me that he wasn't adapting well. His intense focus on the horses was causing issues, and they were having a hard time managing his behavior. Their options were limited: either they would put him down that day, or I could come and pick him up, but it had to be the next day.

I left the house at 5:00 am the next morning, heading to a small town in eastern Ohio. It was raining, and the wind was blowing so hard that it was difficult to keep the car centered in the lane. After five hours, I arrived at the farm. They wouldn't be home, and they told me he would be in a kennel near the front gate. I couldn't miss him, they said. Bodhi was curled up in a small doghouse with a torn, ragged piece of carpet sticking out the front, and only half of his body fit inside. He was soaking wet. I was so happy to see him that I almost broke down. I'm just glad no one was there to see me act like a fool. He jumped up and wrapped his paws around my neck, and I cried like a child in the pouring rain. "Let's go home." Back in the car, the mud and water didn't matter; we were heading home again, chasing the windshield wipers all along the way. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered love, a testament to the bond we shared. I cried, and he licked my tears. 

Just the next day, I received two calls from people interested in adopting an older dog. After the interview, the first caller was 83 years old, and I thought they might be too old for a young border collie. While it might work now, God forbid that the man gets sick or passes away before Bodhi, what would happen to him, and I didn't want to take that chance. Then I spoke to the second caller; they had lost their Border Collie and didn’t want to go through the puppy stage, which I understand. They were a wonderful couple who immediately connected with him, and he with them. So it was decided—Bodhi was going to a new home. Sunday, the day of his transfer, felt very bittersweet. I was uneasy because I kept thinking, “This just needs to stop." Bodhi needs a forever home where he can feel safe and be himself. He had been sleeping inside with us, which helped us re-establish our bond. As the time got closer, I felt more anxious and emotional, even playing the piano, which I do when stressed. The books on the piano were sentimental favorites, and everything around me seemed to bring me to tears, so I stopped playing. We were ready for him to leave. Rawhide, check… favorite ball, check… shot records, check… my heart, check… again. I couldn't take it. It was like giving my heart away over and over again. How many times will I have to go through this? It's like pulling off a scab and feeling the pain all over again. It was a beautiful day—sun shining, warm, birds singing—and everything in the world seemed perfect, or so I thought…

Outside, as we played with his favorite ball, I was attentive to every sound from the road, knowing a car could pull up at any moment and take him away again. They called when they got off the interstate, so I knew it was 15 minutes or less. Sometimes, it was just too much, and my heart broke all over again. Still, I wanted what was best for Bodhi—a home where he was the center of attention. The people were wonderful and eager to share their lives with a good dog, but it was not meant to be. You see, Bodhi came back to us the next day.

At this point, my options were limited because I didn't know what to do. Something somewhere has happened to Bodhi in his young life, and deep down, I knew it. He is a good dog, but he’s afraid someone might hurt him again, so he tries to protect himself. My dogs lick and kiss me whenever I let them, sometimes too much, but Bodhi will shy away if you try to hold or hug him. It's like your old Aunt Nellie trying to give you a kiss on the lips. Bodhi wants to love you, but he’s afraid someone will snatch the rug from under his feet, so he’s always on guard. He will only give part of his heart. He loves to be inside, playing and sitting in our lap while you rub him, but always on his terms. Bodhi has been to more cities than most people I know. Since January of that year, I’ve traveled over 1000 miles to take him to and pick him up at various homes, trying to find the right place. I guess I'm a dog fanatic, and I want to do the right thing for him, and honestly, it's my job. When we raised puppies, I always said, "Remember, it might be your dog, but it will always be my puppy" if it was born at the farm.

The confusing part is that Bodhi is a great dog, but he has a tough shell around his heart. He loves me and will follow me anywhere I go. I know he needs and wants to feel loved. Bodhi, you've lived a lifetime in just a year. I only hope and pray, and yes, I have prayed for my dogs, that things will work out. I don't know what went wrong, if anything, but we're all pulling for you in ways you'll never know. Now, you are our dog and will stay at the farm and never get hurt again!

After a few months, he settled into our farm routine and became part of the pack. Clancy would teach him, and Bodhi respected him, listened to him, and watched him, learning how to be a dog. One day, we had guests who were the owners of one of our older pups. "What are you going to do with Bodhi?" Keep him, I said. "You know, he just needs a job, does he need a home? We can work with him, can we try?" they asked. 

Later that day, Bodhi went home with them, but they wanted to start fresh, and Bodhi got a new name; it was now "Tucker." Over the years, I kept up with Tucker, and when they went on vacation, Tucker and their other dog would return to the farm. Life was good, and Tucker had a great life. He competed in agility; he wasn't as good as some, but he had fun, which is the only thing that matters, and he had a job!

Some months ago, Tucker and one of his owners visited us just to say hi and catch up. It was nice to see him and watch him roam around on some of the grounds where he once lived. Clancy was gone, but Tucker came back to visit us, just like old times. He was much older and wiser, and one of the best dogs in the world. I got to see him one last time; he remembered me, and it felt just like old times.

Isn't it odd that a dog would come back into our care that had been deemed a worthless cause and was set to die?  Fortunately, things finally worked out after 5 different owners. By luck, fate, fortune, or destiny — whatever you call it — it was a miracle.  I don't always know the full story on every rescue dog, but I do know the story on Tucker. 

In his new job, he received and qualified for;

Novice Rally Title

Novice Jumper

Two CPE Agility titles

AKC Novice Rally Title

Qualifier  Novice Agility/Fast

All of this for a dog deemed worthless, and nearly everyone gave up on him except a few people. 

On my wall is a shadow box of his "first" AKC ribbon, along with a picture of him, given to me by his owners — something I will always cherish. Today, I have another shadow box that completes his story.

Last week, after I opened the package, I choked up again. Everything from the past flooded my mind, bringing back so many memories. It took the right people to do what was needed to help Tucker develop into a great dog with a great life. Rest well, my boy. I know you're with Clancy and will be waiting for me when that time comes, and we will all walk and play again. Dad

It's all about the dogs, and in one day, everything changed. Thank you, Hilary and Suzanne.

As most people know, if you have ever met me in person or had a lengthy phone call with me, I do enjoy talking! In reality, I am a very private person and dislike being in the spotlight and being in front of people. I write my thoughts and can communicate better this way because I feel safer. Often, my writing affects me more than it does others, and I stumble through it because of the tears and pain it evokes. But here goes...

I did not know Charlie Kurk, nor did I listen to his videos. I really didn't have an opinion of what he did. From the brief exposure I had with him, he seemed like a good person and was very passionate about his faith. We are all passionate about something; mine is saving dogs, but maybe I need to change that. Before Clancy's Dream, I'm sure it was something else. I grew up in a firm Baptist upbringing as a small child, and I remember our pastor. Brother Bobby Brooks was a fire and brimstone preacher, and when you left the service, you KNEW you were going to hell because of the pulpit pounding he gave the congregation if you didn't repent. Funny how those things stick with you.

My religious daily life is mediocre at best, and as I get older, things change, and priorities change too. We all have our best friends in different stages of our lives, and every one of mine has passed away, and every one was younger than me. That alone puts a different mindset on my life. Wow, am I next? My father was in perfect health, and we were cutting down trees, and he wanted to tell me something. He was walking toward me, and 10 feet away, he dropped dead. Two hours before that, during lunch, he told me he was ready to go to Heaven. I laughed and said we all do, and he did in front of me.

Several weeks ago, before the Charlie Kirk incident, I was sitting on the dock, looking over the water and taking in the beauty of God's creation by myself. Pondering my thoughts, I knew this world is in a state of decline, and it needed a change. Drifting back to Brother Bobby Brooks' "Hell and Damnation" days, Baptist churches would hold a Revival to stir the spirit, aiming to renew the faith of their believers. It often involves passionate preaching, worship, and a call for repentance and spiritual awakening among the congregation, and Bobby Brooks could certainly do it.

This world needs a revival, and sitting in the beauty of "my" world, I bowed my head and prayed, "God, we need a revival, we need it now more than ever." God works in mysterious ways and works in his own time. On September 10, the revival began. While I don't believe it was just me who had much to do with it, thousands of other prayers were also a factor, because I believe we can all agree that things are not good. Tuning in to Charlie Kirk's memorial on the TV, I observed some of the attendees and listened to what they had to say. One common bond was that the speakers all seemed to have a biblical faith, but were very reserved in the past. A few even said that in the last week, they had spoken more about God and Jesus than in their entire political career, and I was somewhat proud of them for doing so. It got me thinking, "Yeah, I'm right here too." I thought.

I have had many chances to die. In my lifetime, I have had 11 near-death experiences. I have been shot at several times as a policeman, involved in horrible car wrecks, ICU and hospital stays for weeks and months, and had a stroke because of a lack of oxygen. Elaine once watched doctors perform CPR on me in the ER, where they lost me twice. The last thing I remember was the doctor straddling me on the table, my eyes went dim, and I was gone. On another emergency trip to the ER, the doctor told me to "make your peace, you're not leaving this hospital," and they did. My family was called in during the middle of the night, and as I was lying on my bed, drifting in and out of a coma, I remember so vividly my prayers and thoughts. My only prayer to God was asking for forgiveness, not to spare me. I was ready. I told God I was ashamed, so ashamed and embarrassed that I didn't do more for his cause, and I still am.

I couldn't care less about your lifestyle, how you live, or what you do. I do care about "your forever", but that's your decision. It's not my intention to lecture or convict anyone, but rather to share with you about God and the sacrifice of Jesus for us. Ultimately, it's your decision, and you need to be comfortable with your choice. Life is hard and unfair, I know all too well, but I am truly blessed, and so are we all. Things can always be better, and they can always be worse. Why have I made it through all these experiences? And yes, I have asked God, 'What is my plan?' I still don't know. I know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, He died for our sins and was resurrected; we are saved by grace, not by works, and I believe in an eternity. Am I worthy? No, but by grace we are saved.

We often seem to make things more complicated than they are. Heaven and hell are real, Jesus is our Lord and Savior. Satan will put any obstacle in front of us to pull us away from God. Bobby Brooks had a significant impact on my life. Who would have thought that a 4-year-old boy would think about his sermons nearly 70 years later? A revival has started! Amen

Davey

As our Clancy walked out of the woods at the Rainbow Bridge, he was standing in a grassy field; the wind blew through his hair, walking a little farther, he reached the edge of the bridge where once a pet crosses, they never cross back. In the distance, Clancy saw a Border Collie limping, struggling to walk, and unable to see. As the dog got closer, his legs became stable, and he walked a little straighter. The scars on his face faded, and the puss in his eyes vanished, and he could see again as he reached the end of the bridge. "Are you Clancy?" "I am," Clancy said as he stood still and listened as he had many times before, and the stories were sad. "I heard about you; your name was said several times before I passed away, and I saw you," the dog said. "I was here, but you saw my helpers; I knew you were coming and waited for you as I will wait for all of them that come after you."I received this email from a shelter we work with one Friday afternoon, "He probably only weighs about 30 pounds, and his eyes are very cloudy. He needs to see a vet ASAP, so please let me know if you can do that." After talking to the shelter manager at 6:30 the following morning, we left the house hurriedly because it seemed bad. Driving a few hours, you never know what lies ahead. But I thought we were prepared, but we weren't.

On the way to the shelter, I called my Vet and tried to get an appointment because I felt we would need to see them as soon as possible; after the conversation, no appointments were open. The shelter was closed, but having the inside number, I called the Manager, and she met me and Maddie, my Granddaughter, at the back door. Maddie loved the inside work at shelters and often went with me. 

Once inside the shelter, the dog was in the "special care room," where the special dogs needed more help. One look told me this was bad. When I sat next to the dog on the floor, I reached out to his paw, holding it, knowing it was serious. Anything over 103 degrees is usually a bad sign, and his paw was burning up, and this dog was sick. His eyes were nearly shut because of the puss, and a hole on his forehead was infected along with his ears. I looked at the Manager and said this dog was dying, and he was. I contacted another Vet in Louisville trying to get him in; they were closing in just a short time because of Saturday hours, but they knew it was severe because my voice was breaking. A 30-pound dog that should have weighed 60 pounds was dying before us. He was picked up the day before by animal control on a dead-end road, where he was dumped along with broken pieces of his doghouse. He hadn't left the safety of it on that abandoned road because he was also blind. I would assume his old owner wanted everything gone, and it was.

My speech was slurred, and I was embarrassed because I was tearing up; how could a dog suffer this much for so long? He could still hear out of one ear, and I softly talked to him and stroked his scarred face and bony body; he wagged his tail, and that was all he could move. After all the pain and suffering he had gone through, he still wagged his tail from the hand of an unknown human he trusted and wanted someone to love him, and I did. The dog soon passed away, but before he left this world, someone loved him, but he knew peace on his last breath.

Not many words were spoken between Maddie and me on the long drive home, and many times, I just stared out the window, holding back tears. One of the few things I did said, "Now you have seen the ugly side of a rescue, and we couldn't help, but we tried."

As the dog and Clancy walked and talked, he asked, will I see him again?" "Who," Clancy asked. "The man who came to see me," he said. "yes, this is a special place; he will come soon." Clancy said. "What about the other man, the man where I lived that hurt me?" "There is a very special place for people like him, and you will never see him again," Clancy said.

Davey

When I got home, I walked around the farm with my dogs to clear my head. The first place I stopped was Clancy's grave; the wind chimes started as usual. Clancy told me that Davey was home and thanked Maddie and me for trying.

Rest and play in eternal peace, Davey; you certainly deserve it. It was one of the worst things I have ever seen, but we tried. I will never forget the wag of his tail from a broken and suffering dog that had no hope and none was available, but he knew on his last breaths someone loved him, and we did.

The meaning of the name "Davey" is: "Beloved." We named him; we wanted him to have a name. 

Whispers the story continues.

Notes from Marybeth Harr.

I got Kenny's message @6:38am & knew something important was going on. After taking about 5 minutes to get my pack settled down to their morning routine, I called to see what was going on. 

Kenny had been notified about a dog that was at a shelter here in NY & in pretty rough shape. Was I familiar with the shelter & was it anywhere nearby? Would I be able to assist in evaluating the dog & possibly fostering her until she could be brought into the rescue? Clancy James was certainly barking the orders on this one! What a "coincidence" that I had a Dr. appt. that very morning just 10 minutes from the shelter! This shelter has an incredible reputation in the community. They are located on several acres of land, complete with barns for livestock rescues, quarantine facilities, an army of Humane Officers, a gift shop, full-time veterinarians & a clinic. 

I met with Lyndsay, the Intake Coordinator & followed her through a series of locked doors to a secure building in a very restricted area- completely off-limits to all but a few staff members. No matter how clean & well run an organization is, you can never really erase the smell associated with a shelter & it hit my nostrils hard as we stepped into the segregated kennel area. There were 4 or 5 total dogs in there & their barking echoed & amplified off the concrete walls. In the third kennel, almost hidden from view, crouched the tiniest Border Collie I'd ever seen. To say she was skinny is an understatement. Upon admittance to the shelter, she had earned a "starvation score" of 1/9 (1 being that close to death). She was so terrified that it took Lyndsay a minute to get her leashed up & out to a quieter area. 

As we sat in the corridor to the main building, several staff members walked by & made comments & offered treats, which she readily accepted. Since she had been segregated from the public, many of the staff were unaware she was even there. Her owners had been ignorantly blind to this poor girl's unmistakably disturbing condition. They had called the shelter to take advantage of their "Community Vet Assistance Program" because their dog had an "eye issue." 

What the shelter volunteers witnessed in the back seat of the car was sobering...this dog was unable to lift her head or stand on her own. The pain from her bulging & ruptured eye was evident. She was covered in feces. Her white fur was stained yellow & she had urine burns on her paws. The nails on her back feet were untrimmed & curled into her paws, poking into the pads. The front nails were ragged, bloody & torn- an obvious attempt to free herself from whatever space confined her. The owners were given an ultimatum: surrender her to the shelter or be escorted by Humane Officers to a local ER Vet, where they would be responsible for all bills. They surrendered her.

Immediately upon admission, she was given IV pain medication, nutrition & rehydrated. She underwent surgery the next day to remove her eye. Her wounds were treated & she was bathed. Despite the care & obvious devotion she was receiving at the shelter, the environment was stressing her out & she began exhibiting the behavior common with Border Collies in high-stress situations- inability to settle, pacing, circling & vocalizing. Her "owners" had been making attempts to get her back. Being that the shelter had an "Open Adoption" policy, it was feared she would once again fall into the wrong hands. She needs to be transferred out & continue to rehab in a foster home. That's where Clancy's Dream entered the picture. 

I got her settled in my truck on a bed & began the almost 2hrs drive home. I had decided to name her Whisper for her quiet, gentle demeanor & her clearly fragile condition. After a few minutes of peeking out the windows & then she curled up on the bed & fell asleep! It was probably the first peaceful rest of her young life. Speaking of age, the vets at the shelter originally thought that the condition of her teeth showed a dog about 7yrs old. However, upon spaying, her tiny uterus indicated she was probably only a year old. Malnutrition had stunted the bone formation & left her petite & delicate. 

Upon arrival at my farm, I sequestered my 6 member dog pack to the fenced yard. This way, they could see & smell but have limited contact in case of trouble. My dogs are pretty used to seeing "new" faces, so after the initial "sniff & greet," they went about their business. Whisper showed no aggression, nor was she overly submissive. She was cautious but curious and watched everything that my dogs did. This was Saturday & chores had to be done, so noise was a constant...lawnmowers, tractors, power tools, etc. We had people drop in for a casual visit & through it all, Whisper sat quietly and observed. She found one of the dog bones in the yard & started gnawing on it. I wanted to test her temperament, so I softly spoke to her as I reached for the bone. 

She readily gave it up with no adverse reaction. That night, I put her in the crate & she slept all night. The following night I repeated her bedtime in the crate, but @ some point in the evening, she managed to "escape," & I woke to her sleeping beside me! That was the last night she spent in the crate. 

The transformation over the next few days was wondrous & heartwarming. She chose my pupper, Dashiell, as her playmate & there were no limits to their antics. Dashiell would pummel her & send her rolling through the grass, but it didn't phase her a bit. She gave as good as she took! Her intelligence manifested in so many ways, but especially her ability to mimic our daily routines & quickly adapt to everything around her. She never wanted to stray far from my side & within a few days, she was allowed free roam of the property & understood the boundaries. It was like she'd been here the whole time. 

Such is the joy that comes from fostering. You take a dog that is hobbled by an unimaginable environment of oppression and watch them blossom into a REAL dog! Whisper changed so rapidly that it was comical at times. She commanded a huge space even though she was small. She would stretch herself out anywhere - the couch, dog bed, the grass - and relish in the feeling of freedom. That tiny body that had previously appeared fragile was now engineered by a dynamo! Her confidence was intoxicating. 

Whisper still has a lot of recovery left, but she's prepared for what the rest of her life has to offer & ready to meet it headlong. This week, she starts the journey to Her FurEver. I will miss her so much. But, I am 100% happy in the knowledge that she is going to the best possible home this side of Heaven. So, thank you, Clancy James, for coordinating this rescue! The Dream continues...

Marybeth Harr is a member of Clancy's Dream and has assisted us many times, never saying no to helping a dog with a transport or, like in this case, dropping everything to help. Marybeth decided to name her Whisper for her quiet, gentle demeanor & her clearly fragile condition, and it was very fitting.

When border collies that need help come up, sometimes it's a relinquishment from a home, and time is not a factor. When we get notified about shelter dogs, they are placed in the front of our "to-do" list, and we immediately start working toward helping the dog. Sometimes, there is no waiting, and a dog needs help as soon as it can be arranged. One thing different about Clancy's Dream, we answer our phones 24 hours a day. And while this can be difficult because, in Google's search engine, we are usually at the top of the "rescue" list, resulting in calls about cats, goats, and many other critters but we have a list of most local rescues, we steer them to the right place. The only downside is the calls you get between 11 pm and 8 am.

Last Sunday, I decided to visit Whisper and meet her adopted family, which decided to adopt her. Usually, project dogs take a bigger part of your heart because there is much more interaction, love, and pain, but with triumph, the one you will never forget.

As I approached the home of Kim and Sandy Wade, I was eager to see Whispers as I pulled in the long drive. Even before I opened the door, I felt welcome because Koda, their GSD, approached my car. When I opened the door, he bounced in, licking my face while I scratched his ears. I was, in some ways, home because my GSD Levy does the same thing. Sandy, Kim's husband, met me with a hearty handshake and led me into the house to meet Kim and Whispers, who was shy and cautious of any stranger. After talking about Whisper's past and meeting her, I sat on the floor and often inched up to her within reaching distance. Talking is my soft talk; in just a few minutes, she approached my soft hand and ear scratches. Kim wanted to co-mingle Koda, and Whispers had been introduced but slowly. I ask her to bring Koad inside, and let's get started. As he came in the door, he was put on a lead, as was Whispers, both tails started to wag, and they were eager to see each other. Whispers bounced up and danced around Koda, and seemed comfortable. One of Kim's concerns was that Whispers would not be a farm dog and stay close. After some more talk, I said let's go outside which we did. Koda and Whispers seemed friends, and Koda even play-bounced, wanting Whispers to play too, which she did. Before I left, several walks were taken with Kim, myself, and two happy dogs interacting.

Sitting on their back porch, many world problems were solved through great conversations while 

Whispers and Koda lay by our rockers. It was sad leaving their home, but I had to get home to my dogs, but I knew Whispers was home.

Many times, we see a dog that appears broken with little hope or future; it could be that it's emotional or physical, but the efforts to help the dog, it always pays off in many ways. Whispered originally appeared that "things were just too late" to be able to help, but things changed because of the excellent Vet Care at Lolly pop farm. Today, Whispers is part of our Clancy's Dream family and is on the road to a full recovery and has been adopted by Kim and Sandy Wade.

Sometimes life is a struggle, even with some dogs not getting a fair shake, and we know it sometimes takes much effort. You have to pull up your bootstraps and change the situation, no matter how hopeless it seems. What a mess the Whispers was in, but when hope, love, and medical care were given, it was amazing, and life for all of us was changed for the better. 

It is a blessing and a lesson we could all learn. If you help others, you are always helping yourself... 

 Ken & Whispers