“This is the true story of my second Shetland Sheepdog (Sheltie), Lucky. True from my perspective anyway. I did take the liberty of putting words into the mouth of my dog, Lucky as I sense his teachings, so one could argue that this is a bit fictional. The words and actions of humans are real, thus non-fiction. The genre of this book? I don’t care, lol…

Just like Path of Three Hundred: Volume 1, I wrote this book in the third person and changed almost all of the names of the characters, so this book reads like a work of fiction.

Prior to Lucky coming into my life, my first sheltie was a female, Bette Midler (she had a commanding presence and was very loud). That name was not my choice, nor was it to get the wonderful little dog in the first place. The choice was that of my second wife who will remain nameless out of respect for her.

I loved Bette so much and apparently, she felt it because she took to me more so than my wife at the time. Bette would follow me everywhere and I even took her with me to job sites when I was practicing architecture at the time.

Bette was with us in this world for more than twelve years. She developed seizures in her later years. My wife at the time and I were advised to put her to sleep due to her intensifying suffering from the seizures. We complied and Bette died in my arms from our decision to end her life.

Up until today as I write this, that action was the hardest thing that I have ever done and I actually still feel guilt from it. From my perspective, the experience was horrible and not one that I ever wanted to repeat.

I swore at the time that I would never ever get another dog or any other animal as a pet. If you have ever been through it, you understand fully what I mean.

Yet, six months after we “put her to sleep” (in quotes because I don’t like the cultural term), I began searching online for Sheltie puppies. I felt at the time that couldn’t help it. I missed her so much.

One night late in December of 2006, I found a Sheltie breeder in South Carolina about a four-hour drive from where we lived in Wilmington, North Carolina. Knowing my vow to never put myself or a dog through it again, I turned the computer off and walked outside in the cold night air with my wife.

It was a still night. No clouds, no wind, and complete silence around midnight. The sky was beautiful and full of stars. My wife and I just sat there in silence after I told her about the Sheltie puppies I found online.

After a while of silence, I heard a dog bark. Just one short bark with complete silence following. My wife looked at me as I looked at her and smiled.

“Do you think that is a sign, Greg?”

“Well, it would seem so. What are the chances? I was just looking at those little ones while feeling sad about Bette. We came outside on a silent night just before Christmas and poof…a lone bark from a dog.”

The next morning, I called the Breeder and set up an appointment to see the puppies.

A few days later, my wife at the time and I drove the four hours to Greenville, South Carolina where I met a little sheltie puppy for the first time and fell in love. The little guy was only six weeks old at the time, so the Breeder told me that if I wanted him, I would have to drive back two weeks later when he was eight weeks old.

My wife at the time and I made the drive back as instructed and purchased the sheltie puppy. (By the way, I do not like the fact that any human “purchases” another being of God, but that is the cultural norm that we have all gone into agreement with.)

Naming things is another human cultural norm. We all have them bestowed upon us by others at a time in our lives when names are meaningless until we are taught that that is the way of humans in this reality.

Thus, the little sheltie puppy became “Lucky.” Yet, I am the lucky one.”

“Many years ago…

“Look, new humans!”

“The one with little hair on top of his head seems familiar to me.”

“Go say hello. He’s looking at you.”

“Is it because of my weird eyes, I wonder?”

“Doesn’t matter, dude…just go.”

With encouragement from his buddy, the little Shetland Sheepdog puppy began slowly walking toward the human male with his eyes looking upward.

“Wild, he has one bright blue eye and one brown eye.”

“Actually, Petah, the brown one is only half brown. The top half is also blue.”

“I’ve never seen such a thing before. Why are his eyes like that?”

“His father is a Blue Merle and his mother is a Sable. Blue Merles typically have bright blue eyes. He is a rare one indeed, Petah with a mixture of both eyes while his coat is mostly that of a Sable.”

“Fascinating.”

Awestruck, Petah kneeled down on one knee upon the floor as the little puppy began running toward the human. As the puppy approached closer, Petah stretched out fully on his belly. Seconds later, the puppy kisses began while Petah just laughed. ”