Somewhere, somehow a friend told someone about my love of collies. I shared many years of my life with collies from childhood up until my angel, Lara, passed in 2007. I loved Lassie, and just as little girls dream of having a pony, my dream of having a collie came true. So I am not surprised by the following story by Abbe Effron, as my collies always gave me great comfort when I needed it so much, as a child of divorced parents:

By Abbe Effron

She first came to us in July 1998 when my five-and-a-half-year-old son, Ian, an only child, had been newly diagnosed with lymphoblastic lymphoma. He had only been on chemo for three months when many people said we were nuts for a getting a dog in the middle of our cancer nightmare. But I knew I needed something to help me get through the horror of what I was watching my little boy go through — something to keep me strong so I could stay strong for him. And it worked. Each night, as I lay drained mentally, emotionally, and physically from Ian's medical procedures, chemotherapy, or hospital/clinic stays, my beautiful Blue Merle Collie, Skye, would fill me up, replenish "the well," so to speak, so I could do it all over again the next day. Throughout 15 months of aggressive chemotherapy, Skye stood by our family, protecting our precious son, and providing us with unconditional love and constant companionship, helping to counter that incredible sense of isolation that families in our situation often feel.

She filled the tremendous void left by family and friends who simply refused to be there for us at this very stressful time. Each week, sometimes each day, horrible and cruel things were being said or done to us, or we were being totally ignored, all because of people's fear of dealing with childhood cancer. But my Collie was always there for me to hug and get lovely, wet kisses from, with that long nose and the whiskers that tickled. Nothing beats the unconditional love of our beloved pets, and of course, it doesn't hurt when your pet is a giant, furry, warm, sweet, and gentle-natured Collie, one that you can just bury your face in and cry your heart out.

To say that I am alive today because of my Collie is no understatement. She kept me going when I didn't have any energy left to go on. I truly felt it was a privilege to be around, let alone share my life with, a Collie, because they truly are noble dogs whose intelligence and loyalty should never be underestimated.

I had always dreamed of owning a Collie one day, having spent much of my childhood reading Eric Knight's Lassie Come Home, and watching every incarnation of the Lassie television series. Almost every day for six years, Skye and I would wait at the corner bus stop for Ian's bus to come from his elementary school, reminiscent of the scene in the classic movie, Lassie Come Home, in which Lassie would eagerly wait outside the school for her boy, Joe (Roddy McDowell), to come out.

Anyone who has ever owned a Collie will tell you that they love to rescue or help people or other animals. Some people even think that Collies purposely set up situations of peril so that they can then step in and be the hero and wait for everyone to say, "What an incredible Collie!" Of course, when you have Lassie as your role model and the standard by which all other Collies are measured, the pressure is high to achieve greatness and keep up that heroic image!

Then one day, out of nowhere, Skye became ill with an immune system disease in which her blood cells were being destroyed by her own body. She was failing fast, having developed blood clots in her lungs despite the best efforts of the vets at one of our country's leading veterinary hospitals. Before the vet helped Skye pass over the Rainbow Bridge, I held her face in my hands and thanked her for coming into our lives and "saving us" during the worst possible time in a family's life — when our little boy had cancer. To say it was a heartbreaking experience having to say goodbye to my beautiful Skye is only touching the surface of the overwhelming depth of emotion that I was feeling. She was only seven years old, and we were two weeks away from saying that we shared our lives with her for six years. Too short a life for such a warm and gentle soul, but our family knows that we now have a special angel watching over us, and that her spirit lives on in our hearts.

A few minutes before Skye passed, I realized the significance of today's date —that it was exactly five years to the day since my son had been off chemotherapy, a milestone in cancer survivorship. So it seems that Skye's purpose was to come and be the rock we could all lean on during our family's difficult time. The coincidence that she passed on this important anniversary is really no coincidence at all, because her mission had been completed — to ensure that her family and her little boy got through the cancer treatment and were whole and healthy again. We were all her flock, and she herded us with great kindness and compassion. I owe her a debt of gratitude. She will be greatly missed.

Thank you, Abbe.