She sometimes answers to Gala. Sometimes she doesn’t.

Sometimes she looks directly at you and chooses to run in the other direction. A direction where aging peacocks, tiny annoying yappy dogs and hysterical blonde women live. On these occasions I realize that I am doing her a disservice by not allowing her to live on a farm or someplace where she can be territorial about a large surrounding area. Just because I have put myself in a position where I have to conform to the ever encroaching urbanites, doesn’t mean she should be forced to.
It has been selfishness that has led us here and so it shall be selfishness of another kind that will move us forward.
She needs space and land and wilderness and someone who has the time and/or experience to deal with a border collie. She needs love because it seems as though someone was cruel to her, but she also needs discipline. A firm hand not a heavy one.

I will bring her, whether it’s somewhere on the island, the kootenays or elsewhere. I don’t care. All I know is, our life right now is not fair to her on any level. She is never allowed to run free outside for fear that she might (will) get into trouble somewhere. So any chance she gets, of course, she runs as fast as possible and completely ignores any attempt to bring her back until she is ready to come. I’m afraid that one day she won’t come back until it’s too late and the ninnies who live in the city will call animal control and she will be destroyed. Seems extreme I know, but there are lunatics out there.

So if anyone knows of a place where a willful but loving border collie can go, a place where she’ll receive the attention and discipline she needs, I’d love it if you could let me know.