How We Met
October, 2002
 

 

Wisconsin Sheltie Rescue has placed over 300 dogs into forever homes. There is a story behind each of these, that can't be told on the pages of the "Success Stories", due to space limitations. Each month, we will feature a different WSR sheltie and their story, as told by their forever family members.

At left is Bucky. His mom Holly tells their story:

I met WSR because of a small addiction toward books and a family history of shelties. I volunteer at the Greendale, WI library sale book area, a self-serving action that allows me first pick (after the librarian and all the library workers) at buying the books donated to raise funds for the library.

As usual on my pseudo-selfless forays, I checked the library display cases, and in one of them was a plush sheltie and information on WSR. In addition to books, my family has given me a genetically influenced sheltie-gene, so I copied down the address, checked the website, and then wrote to WSR.

‘If you do sad pet stories, please do not send me anything,’ I commented, ‘I know abuse exists and I do not like it, but I also do not like the nightmares I have for days after encountering stories of it. If you do not, then please send me information.’ When I read the first newsletter I laughed with pleasure and told my husband we had to get to know WSR better.

Not having the same genetic structure, and living with several dogs, he was not quite as certain; however, one day when we went out for lunch and an afternoon drive, we just happened to head north. We stopped in Howards Grove for lunch, and when he asked where I would like to go next, I said, “Chilton.” He is a very kind person.

We went to Chilton, found its stoplight, and headed west. When we came over a hill and saw the lake glittering on the other side of the highway it seemed as though we had driven unknowing into a fairy tale (tail). “Which way do I turn?” he asked. One way seemed more right (actually it was), and we scanned mailboxes.

“There it is!” I called, staring at the dual signposts. “There’s a dog jumping on the furniture at the window,” he answered. We drove in, Lisa came out to see who had (without appointment) showed up at her porch, and brought us in to meet the dogs. It was wonderful being surrounded by tails and wags (also fur clouds). After awhile Bob said we needed to go home (I think he was worried three of us might go home when two of us had arrived).

And here we are.