These are two of my all-time favorite dogs...the little white one, called Cokie, could say my name when I came home after work or from fishing...she'd go, "Huuuuuuu" and wag and wiggle until I thought she would fall apart. I had her about 14 years or so. One day she walked out into the road, laid down and just died.
The other dog is my trout dog, Bo, who is mostly border collie but some other stuff also. He actually brought a trout to the front porch last summer...it was stiff and long dead, so I doubt if he caught it with his flea rod. He greets me by tossing his massive tail around the living room until he knocks one of Mrs. Koontz's lamps and she screams at him.
The really strange thing is I had a vivid dream about these two dogs last week. In the dream I was in a field of flowers, like one of those Andrew Weyth paintings, and the dogs had me on the ground licking my face.
Not entirely an unpleasant scene.
But when I was a young man I never dreamed of dogs......I dreamed of, well, you know.