We adopted Kit on February 19, 1999.  This was written 10 months later:

For the last ten months I've been followed by a constant shadow, regardless of the position of the sun or the moon.  This shadow comes with a name, a voice of sorts and a definite personality.  This shadow is a shetland sheepdog named Kit.

The last thing my husband and I were looking for on that day back in February was another dog to add to our family.  Already the 'parents' of one small sheltie and one large border collie, we were just by chance visiting an area pet expo when we came upon a booth sponsored by Wisconsin Sheltie Rescue.  Short of time, we bought a bumper sticker for our VW van (MY SHELTIE IS BETTER BEHAVED THAN YOUR HONOR STUDENT) and grabbed the current newsletter to read more about the rescue.  We spent a good hour perusing the various booths and picking up other literature.  Then it was back in the car to get home to let our own two dogs out after a long afternoon away.
On the drive home I began reading the WSR newsletter and after reading about one of the dogs that was then up for adoption went back and read the little bio out loud to my husband.  This little sheltie had suffered frost bite and the removal of ALL of his teeth.  He was older, perhaps 10 years or more, but this was only a guess since the missing choppers made it impossible to tell his age.

I wanted him almost immediately, but we wavered.  A THIRD dog?  More food, more vet bills, another dog to board during trips, plus the fact that this was already an older dog...something we didn't really want to think about but had to.  Three years prior we had lost two dogs within months of each other, one to old age and the other, a sheltie, to a sudden illness.  We knew how hard it had been to see them go.  But, this little bugger really intrigued us and two days later I phoned Lisa, the head of WSR and spoke to her about Kit.

She told me he had just been made available for adoption after spending several months with her getting accustomed to things.  He had been rescued from a shelter so full that he had been staying with the cats.  The reasons for the teeth being pulled were sketchy.  Possibly because they were in such bad shape they needed to come out.  Without direct word from the people involved in their removal we would never know why.  She told me though, that in spite of his toothlessness that he was a good eater and ate canned dog food rather than kibbles.  She told me he was a quiet little guy, stayed on his cushion most of the time and had only just begun to venture off of it to see where Lisa was in the evenings.  I promised to get back to her after talking to my husband to see if we really wanted to try and take in another dog.

Needless to say, I spoke with Lisa a day or so later and made plans to visit WSR that Saturday...one week after innocently picking up our first copy of the newsletter.  I remember clearly, driving in and seeing shelties in the fenced yard, eager to see the little guy that we'd come to possibly adopt.  Lisa greeted us along with several very vocal shelties in all shapes and sizes.  Looking them over I wondered which was Kit, until Lisa took us over to the spot that normally contained a dish washer.  Here he was, looking up at two total strangers, looking like he'd been through some rough times.  He didn't bark, he didn't move, I'm not even sure he lifted his head.  Lisa coaxed him out with treats and we got our first good look at Kit Kat.

He seemed to be a little crooked, one eye missing fur the entire circumference, one ear bent over giving him a very pathetic look.  His tail was short and stubby, having lost a lot of it to the frostbite sometime during his life.  And then, there was the lip smacking!  We've figured that to be from the fact that his lips are no longer held out by his teeth which causes them to turn in and so he smacks his lips a lot.  When he's excited or happy he smacks at 90 miles a minute and you can't help but laugh.  But wait.  I'm getting ahead of myself.  Looking at him that morning, quietly laying on his bed, my husband and I instantly fell for Kit.  This was a pup that needed a home.  A quiet corner to curl up in and be left alone was all he seemed to need to be content.  We could do that.  Considering the past this poor guy had had, it was time someone took him in and loved him.  With his not-so-perfect looks, the mishappen appearance of looking like he'd run full speed into a moving vehicle, not to mention the almost comical lip smacking...he was perfect.  We talked to Lisa about a trial weekend with him at our home.

So that week prior to Kit's arrival we prepared a spot for him away from foot traffic but within eyesight of us so that he wouldn't feel alone.  My husband bought him a food dish, shaped like a bone with the words "No bones about it, I love to eat" emblazoned across it.  (How prophetic THIS turned out to be!)  We knew that this was only a trial weekend but if things didn't work out in our favor the dish would go back with Kit to WSR.  But, we sure hoped that it would work out for everyone.  If Kit liked it with us we wanted to keep him.
That Friday morning Kit arrived with Lisa who had with her a handful of papers and a couple of things for us to sign.  Apparently we had passed inspection and if Kit was willing after the weekend with us he need never leave.  The adoption was all but final, pending only on what happened after Lisa left Kit in our hands.

When Lisa left our house, leaving behind this toothless 'peanut' as we call him, Kit sat for some time at the front door as if waiting for her to come back for him.  We called and coaxed him and gradually he began to wander around.  He was very quiet.  I don't remember hearing him bark that day, although that wasn't to last!  But again, I jump ahead in my story.

The first few days Kit spent, by choice, in the back hallway.  Sometimes he would lay under the cuckoo clock in the kitchen and this prompted us to put down a towel and try to make it his spot rather than in the cold back hallway.  Eventually he came in to join us.
As the days went by he began to open up to us.  For some reason he became very attached to me and at some point turned into what I most affectionately call 'my shadow.'  These days, that little dog that looked up so innocently from his cushion in Lisa's kitchen won't let me walk across the room without following less than a foot behind me.  If I get up, he gets up.  If I leave the room, he leaves the room.  If I should manage to make it into, say, the bathroom without him right behind me he'll wait outside the door and be staring up at me when I come out.  If he goes outside without me he comes tearing through the house at full speed looking for me upon his reentry.  If I leave the house, with no intention of taking him along he hurls himself against the closing door and barks and barks and barks.  We wonder whatever happened to that silent little pup curled up on his cushion at Lisa's house!

On occasion Kit has accompanied me to my bookstore where he does lay quietly next to me the entire day.  That is of course when he isn't following my every step as I shelve books.  Even now, as I write this, he is 3 feet away lying just inside the doorway.  Protecting me?  Making sure he sees me if I leave?  Only Kit knows.  But at least I always know where he is should I for some reason need him.
Kit doesn't play much with toys, though if you rub a squeaky object all over his face for a few minutes he does start batting at it and looks somewhat like a cat playing.  He doesn't give puppy kisses like our other two, but he does love to be put up on the bed and will hit my knee with his paw until I pet his head then rub his tummy after he flips over to wiggle on his back.  Then, as if that were all he wanted from me, he will lay down at the end of the bed and stay there until I leave the room.  At which time, regardless of how settled in he may be, he will jump down and be right behind me.

He eats like there is no tomorrow.  In spite of the fact that he has no teeth he has no problem eating the other dogs leftovers.  Anything left in a bowl is fair game and he feels, rightfully his.  Hence, the bowl purchased before his arrival in the family was quite appropriate indeed.
Last summer at the sheltie reunion Kit went home with the "Diamond In The Ruff" award.  Despite his jeckle/hyde personality at times he is greatly loved in this house.  Though we laugh often at things he does or looks that he gives us or things that he tries to get away with, we are very glad that we gave this toothless little guy a home for however many years he may have left.  Mistreated he's not.  Spoiled rotten he is.  And if he could talk he would probably tell you so himself.  One of the most satisfying things we've done was bring home a dog that wasn't picture perfect.  A dog that looks a little odd, has strange mannerisms and sometimes is just plain weird.  His name is Kit although I would be remiss to say that he hasn't been called a lot of other things over the months!  But, regardless, he is plenty loved and we don't regret even in the most trying moments, adopting him.  Sometimes when I am holding him upside down (one of his favorite positions) I wonder what life would have been like without this constant shadow.  Luckily we will never have to know.

Thanks Lisa.