Christie Capps [Capps - Henry

I owe a sincere debt of gratitude to Jacque Tulles and Lu, Michele Reed and Hairy, and Nicole Clarkston and Loosey. All three of their beloved puppies became my Henry.

The breed was called Border Collie long after the Regency period in England ended. If you are one of the few who has one of these special animals in your household, you know how intelligent they are. You are blessed.

E lizabeth Bennet had lived twenty years believing love at first sight was a myth promoted by lonely-hearted spinsters and unsuccessful matchmaking mothers to keep their flagging hopes alive. When she entered her secret bower early that particular autumn morning to continue reading the scandalously exciting novel her aunt had sent her, she still believed the idea of love at first sight was fanciful.

She had been nonsensical.

In the privacy of the secluded woods close to the fence line a few miles east of Longbourn, she had spied the handsomest, most attractive gent she had ever seen. Nothing other than instant lovepure, unadulterated amour of the first orderdescribed the jolt raging through her veins at the sight of him.

Elizabeths heart pounded in excitement, and her palms tingled to touch him. She grinned at her own vanity in ever thinking love at first sight was impossible. How humbling!

From their youth, Jane, her eldest sister, had insisted that quickly connecting with another was not only possible, it was probable. Elizabeths rational mind, at least until that moment in time, had railed against the likelihood of it ever happening to any one of the five Bennet daughters. In pure imitation of her father, she had insisted any excess of emotion was only a slight inclination rather than love.

How wrong she had been. In one glimpse her heart went from adoration to infatuation. From infatuation to the greatest of all afflictions of the heart, love.

In truth, Elizabeth had witnessed a hint of the raw emotion the previous evening when she watched Mr. Charles Bingley, the current lessee of Netherfield Park, catch sight of Jane. However, his reaction paled next to the powerful feelings currently flooding Elizabeth.

How could an instantaneous glance bring a joy so magnificent it shook her from her dark curls to the tips of her toes?

Oh, but he was a darling, andhe was rapidly approaching.

Excitement burst into her chest. Her breath quickened. Kneeling on the well-used path, Elizabeth was completely unaware of the dampness from the grass soaking her hem. When he came closer, she realized his excitement may have exceeded her own. For his tail waggled his hindquarters until they bounced.

The puppy stopped in front of her and dipped his head to his front paws in silent obeisance. Then, he yipped, his white-tipped tail dancing back and forth with rapidity.

She extended her hand to allow him to sniff her scent. Apparently, he liked what he smelled because the pace of his tail increased, a feat she had assumed was impossible. She scratched him under the chin, the soft, fuzzy fur tickling her fingertips.

Oh, but you are a handsome laddie, she giggled as he nuzzled his nose into her palm, sniffing and blowing his puppy breath on her wrist.

He barked, then turned to glance longingly at the field adjacent to the path.

Elizabeth loved the breed. Scottish sheepdog or collies were highly intelligent animals who enjoyed nothing more than clear direction from a shepherd and a flock of sheep who needed guidance. They gladly worked from sunrise to sunset, exercising their instinct to herd and run.

The puppy appeared to be about three or four months old, with a roly-poly roundness he would lose as he matured. His coat was a bold mix of black and white splotches. Whomever he belonged to took good care of the animal.

Like the majority of his ancestors, he was a happy little fellow.

Elizabeth, having been born and raised in the neighborhood, knew of no collies who had produced litters that spring. Therefore, she easily concluded the pup was supposed to be at Netherfield Park, accompanying Mr. Bingley.

Netherfield Park, Mr. Bingleys estate, was almost one mile from where she had been sitting. The puppy had traveled far for one so young. For a certainty, Mr. Bingley must be deeply concerned. Go, little one. Your master will be looking for you, I imagine.

Obediently, the puppy spun to the direction from which he had arrived. Nevertheless, within seconds he was distracted by a mouse. Without any guidance, the dog attempted to herd the rodent. Unfortunately for the pup, the mouse had no desire to follow the canines lead.

Thatll do, her voice firm, the collie immediately halted his task and returned to Elizabeths side, dropping at her feet.

Impressed at his obedience, Elizabeth smiled to see his tail again wagging furiously.

You are a good pup, are you not?

Yipping in agreement, the dog lifted his brown eyes to hers. Despite his age, she saw wisdom and welcome.

Black ears hung to the side of his head while a pink tongue peeked out from under a white nose. He reminded her of her favorite of the farm dogs of her youth. Lulu, whose name Elizabeth thought was the prettiest she had ever heard, was quickly shortened to Lu. She had been a working dog. Elizabeth stood at the edge of the fields as Lu spent hours answering the call of Longbourns herdsman. The gent had called himself a jack of all trades and master of none and confessed to her on one occasion that the real professional was his dog.

Lu worked the sheep all day only to run with Elizabeth until her legs collapsed in the evening. The dog never tired, though she did.

When Elizabeth and her sisters were little, her father had brought Lu and her owner home from a trip to the north. The pup immediately started herding Lydia, who at almost two years of age, wanted to run from her parents rather than be attached to them. Lu had other ideas.

Mrs. Bennet had preferred her pug lap dog. Mr. Bennet viewed animals for work, not enjoyment. Her sisters liked kittens. Therefore, Lu became Elizabethsher most loyal companion.