When Ken and I first moved to Virginia, long before we bought our farm, we rented a house with a lot of land, and before long started talking about getting a dog. We discussed what kind of dog we would like, looked at all the pictures in dog breed books, and still couldn't quite decide what kind of dog we'd like.
Finally, after much debate, I said, "It doesn't matter what kind of dog we get. When we're ready for a dog, the right dog will come along."
The VERY NEXT DAY a litter of puppies was abandoned on our property. We figured one of those must be "the right dog." Out of the four, we picked Ruby as the one we'd keep.

She was smart, a little bit shy, and (usually) very obedient. I taught her many tricks. The normal ones, like Sit, Stay, Down, etc. But also others like Shake Hands, Speak, Growl, Crawl, and Shut the Door.


After about a year, it was obvious that Ruby was lonely, so we went to a shelter and got her a border collie cross, Jesse, as a companion. They made friends instantly, and have been companions ever since that day.
When we moved to the farm, they shared the large shed and 1/3 acre run we gave them, and spent many happy days romping together.
So, sad as it may be that she's gone, she had a good life and appears to have had a quick, relatively painless death, since we found her just lying in her shed as if she was resting.
Could be a lot of worse fates for a dog. Could be a lot of worse fates for any of us. And we'll always remember her fondly as "The Right Dog."
Goodbye Ruby. Rest in Peace.