Eighteen years ago today...

...a litter of 7 puppies were born in a little dog house out in the bitter cold. I must admit I wasn't very involved in the event as I had just given birth to our second child 10 days earlier. It took us by surprise. Birdie was an jittery English setter and her pups were sired by a friendly collie from across the road. New homes were found for the pups and even their mother. We kept one male. He was almost all black with white feet and a zig-zag on the back of his neck. Grandpa said that slash of white looked like a lightning bolt and that is how he got his name.
My dad always had a soft spot for him and cared for him when we moved into town for a few years.

Lightning turned out to be a very loyal companion. He was a gentle dog and even though birding was in his blood, he learned very quickly that our flock of chickens were also part of the family and left them alone. I don't consider myself a dog person, but Lightning became very close to me. Near the end of his life when his ears and eyes failed him, he sought me out, following me room to room even when it was so hard for him to get up again after plopping down at my feet. Lightning's favorite activity was romping through the woods any time of year.
Miss ya old boy...