A Child

When Megan arrived at the airport she was five months old and weighed only 36 pounds. She looked terrible. My mother took her to the vet's and found out that she had Giardia, hook, and whip worms.
     Although she started out as a small pet quality puppy, her TT evaluation showed that she had a good aptitude for S & R work. My mother sold her to a lady in Virginia who took her to a trainer in Maryland. The trainer said that Megan was mentally retarded and a very poor quality, lousy looking runt. The lady was very upset and said a lot of nasty things to my mother. She told her that the dog would never even resemble any kind of decent shepherd and was totally un-trainable. So she shipped her back.
     When I first saw her I knew that we were meant for each other. She would follow me everywhere I went. She had to stay in the house, until I could bring her back to health. My mother was so angry at that lady that she told me that if I trained Megan up to Schutzhund level, she would let me keep her. So everyday we worked very hard. Megan did everything she could to please me. Megan loved to do all kinds of work. My mother even used her to teach the younger pups to go swimming and hiking n the woods because she took care of them like a good herding dog should. I think everyone who has met Megan has loved her. By the time Megan was one year old, she was impressing everyone who came to the kennel. I would hide things and Megan would find them. she knew the difference between her ball, stick, kong, sleeve and all her other toys. People could not believe how intelligent she was. She worked in training classes and was a perfect brace partner.
     When I'd go to school my mother let Megan walk the (1,800 ft) driveway with me to wait for the bus. When I got dropped off after school Megan was always there. I would throw sticks in the creek for her and sit on the bridge with her for hours. My mother never worried because he knew that I was in good hands with Megan. She was always a "mother" to every stray animal that I brought home. She helped me "raise" sick kittens, rabbits, and even a real newborn deer once! Even though she was the gentlest dog anyone could ever ask for, she watched over the whole property like a true guardian should.
     When we started going to shows, I always had to leave Megan home for four or five days because we never had enough room. It was very hard on us both. We would be heart broken. She watched me leave with the look as if to say "why can't I come." Should would not eat, etc. until I came home, all she would do is lay on my bed till I came back.
     I finally got to take her with me once and we competed in obedience. I begged my mother to show her in conformation and finally she gave in, but she gave me a long lecture about how Megan was not a show dog and not to be disappointed if she didn't win. Well guess what, we did it, she won! I was so proud of her and the comment was made that we looked great together. Several people said it looked like we could read each others' mind, and that we made a really great team. I never had to say a word to her, she just knew what to do. As a matter of fact, we made such a great team that year, that she actually earned not only her championship, but she also got (the highest possible award) the first Shiloh Shepherd GRAND VICTRIX in 1991!!!! As time went on and she grew older I just let her be herself and my best friend. We had lots of fun together playing, going for walks, etc. We were inseparable.
     When I had my first son she would watch over him. He was not allowed to cry. When he started to walk she would walk beside him to make sure he would not fall or get into anything. She was the perfect baby-sitter. She also would not let him be dirty. She would wash him with a bunch of kisses. When I had my second son she would do the same for him. She was always watching over everyone and all the animals. She was our guardian (angel) dog.
     Even after she grew old, and started to go blind and suffer from arthritis, she never complained! She loved my sons so much that she endured them tripping over or accidentally stepping on her.
     During our annual homecomings, she loved to perform her "Schutzhund" and other routines. In '97 she did it in "slow motion" for us, but by '98, even though I knew she would do anything for me, because her heart was so big, I didn't ask her. It would be the first year, since we became a team, that she would have to stay home. The hematoma in her ear was getting worse, and she was to old for surgery.
     On September 3rd I could no longer stand to watch her suffer, she looked into my eyes as if to say, "please let me go." I knew I had no choice, it was selfish of me to try to hold on. She wanted to be with her friends, at the Rainbow Bridge, where she could be young again and play in the fields, while patiently waiting for the day that I would be able to join her again.

*Reprinted from the November 1998 SSDCA, Inc. Newsletter
*Please Note: Due to the house fire I no longer have the pictures that were published with this.

To My Dearest Megan

The Last Battle Author Unknown

Message to a friend By: John Quealy