A Dream, A Dog, & A Facebook Post


          Like most stories worth telling, ours begins with a dream, a dog and a Facebook post.  The dream had been one of mine since I was a little kid, watching the intelligent, speedy and athletic border collies, flying through agility courses on TV. I watched those dogs with an intensity that mirrored their intensity for their sport and I decided, as young as I was, that this was the breed for me.  Twenty years later, when the decision was made that a dog would be part of our family, there was no question in my mind that our dog would be a border collie.
            The dog was, first and foremost Target’s mom, who quietly gave birth to him a few towns over, surrounded by love, at the beginning of December. After that, the dog would be Target.  Unbeknownst to me, my life changed for the better that day in December and his impact would inspire me forever.
            The Facebook post advertising Target and his siblings appeared in my news feed between Christmas and New Year’s Eve.  Purebred border collies were for sale a few towns over, where my boyfriend grew up and they would be ready to go in February around Valentine’s Day. Eight puppies, a multitude of black and whites both male and females, an interestingly coloured merle male, a merle female, and a completely white male with blue eyes and a single black bullseye.
Within the hour, I had contacted the breeder and set up a meeting time the next day.  My boyfriend arrived home from work that night to the news that we were getting a puppy, months earlier than we had originally planned and since I was working the next day, he was not, he would be travelling a few towns over to pick out our dog.  I loaded my boyfriend up with the questions he needed to ask this lady and the things he needed to look for to ensure she was a legitimate breeder.  I showed him the photos from the post of the puppies, we briefly talked about the colours and potential personality traits we were looking for in our dog. 
At the end of the day, I only had two rules:
1.    Pick the puppy that most relates to you and seems to “choose you”
2.    Pick a puppy.  Just pick one and tell the breeder that when I get there later I will pay a deposit.
As far as I was concerned, we were getting my dog and that was all that was in my radar.  The markings, the colour, the sex, nothing else mattered.  As long as the breeder was a good person with integrity, the dogs were healthy and there weren’t any signs of abusive treatment, everything else was just gravy.
With some hesitation, my boyfriend agreed to go the next day and a journey that neither of us could have expected began.

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