Thorn had a more auspicious beginning with us than any other dog we ever owned. When anyone else besides us handled him, he would thrash like a wild animal. When he began working with sheep he was so fast and hard to control. It took three years before he could be effectively handled.

But once he got it, he handled like a dream. Likewise he learned to associate vet visits with treats, and he became fine with it. Thorn learned to fit in, and in a way, that is the story of his life.

At every stage of his life, he accepted his role and performed it perfectly. As a puppy, he stayed fourth in line, herding the others as they played with a ball. When his time came, he was at the front of the line. He was a great puppy, a wonderful middle dog, and an easy-going patriarch.

I think that is why we miss him so much. He was such an important part of the family that, at every time and in every place, it feels like he should be there.