My family’s border collie, Crash, died yesterday. He was about three months shy of his 16th birthday. We got Crash when I was 14. When we went to go look at the litter and pick out our puppy, all the puppies were bouncing off the walls and running around like crazed, energy-filled border collies tend to do. This one puppy, however, was lying back in the shade, just chilling and watching all the other puppies. He was very laid back, and we knew he was the one we wanted. He was the runt of the litter, very smart, and very sweet. He had bright blue eyes, that eventually turned amber and then brown, and reddish brown fur. He was an adorable little fuzzball, and we loved him immediately.
We had two grown cats at home, and Crash was about their size (or maybe even smaller), and they quickly put him in his place. He grew up knowing that the cats were the bosses and should be feared and respected. Many years later, when I was in grad school and brought my cat Kepler home with me at Christmas, Kep took full advantage of Crash’s fear of cats. Crash was sleeping, minding his own business, and Kep marched right up to him and hissed at him. Crash jumped up and ran away, and Kepler chased after him. It was hilarious watching a 10-pound cat chase a 40-pound dog.
When he was little and wanted to lie down, all four legs would fly out from under him and he would crash – thus he got his name. It also helped that he had puppy nails and long fur so if he went chasing a ball into the kitchen, he had no traction so he went skidding across the floor and crashed into the oven.
Border collies are herding dogs, and Crash always tried to herd anyone, whether it be one of the members of my family, our cats, any visitors… If they were going somewhere, he was going to make sure they went in the right direction (according to him). This little trait of his tended to make the cats pretty angry. Or terrified. My younger cat, Apollo, isn’t afraid of anything (vacuum, hair dryer, the outside, bigger cats, etc.), but when I took him home the last two Christmases, he was really afraid of Crash, who by that time was arthritic and deaf, as well as being scared of cats. It was too funny watching Apollo creep around the house to stay away from Crash, who was completely harmless.
Crash was incredibly smart. He loved to play fetch with his tennis ball, but my dad, with his herniated discs, didn’t want to bend down to get the ball, so Crash learned to put the ball in his hand after he retrieved it, rather than at his feet. He sat and stayed and waited for permission before running out into the yard, even with the door wide open. The one thing he couldn’t ever quite grasp was heeling. I used to run in my neighborhood in Austin, and I took Crash with me on a leash. He always wanted to pull ahead and sprint, and then he’d get completely out of breath and we had to stop so he’d stop wheezing and panting before we could keep going again.
Crash was a part of our family for more than half my life. He loved us, and we loved him. He was a wonderful dog, and we’ll always miss him.

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