We first met Bronco when he was just five weeks old, when we were told he was most definitely Not for Sale, because his breeder had him picked as a show prospect. It took a few weeks of pleading, pressure, threats, and promises to convince the breeder to let him come and live with us. Bronco graciously agreed to give up the proposed glamorous life and blue ribbons of a show career for us.
There is a lot I could say about Bronco, thousands of words, and it still wouldn’t be enough. So I’ll try for a few high spots:
- Bronco loved everybody, even the mailman, even cats, even wild turkeys
- He was a devoted big brother and best friend to Bonnie
- He loved the beach at Carmel, California, where he would march right up to anyone and say, “Hi, I’m Bronco, what’s your name, want to play?”
- Bronco was well-traveled (for a Sheltie) and had Excellent Hotel Manners
- He radiated some kind of magic that made complete strangers cross busy streets just to pat him on the head
- He once met a cowboy on the street who was pleased to meet a “Bronco” in town
- Instead of a spoonful of sugar, he enjoyed taking his medicine with canned, pressurized Cheez Product
- As much as he hated to be cranky, he could be protective of his loved ones when he saw the need
- He didn’t enjoy being bathed, but he loved being clean
- He was the mostly purely good and gentle creature we ever knew
with Rick
with Uncle FlaVio
with Bonnie
View this Post in: 
