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A Dog for All Seasons: A Memoir
A love letter to the working dog, this heartwarming memoir about life on a sheep farm captures the joys and heartbreak of loving a pet
Patti Sherlock's working relationship with her Border Collie, Duncan, got her through the ups and downs of sixteen years on a sheep farm in Idaho. During that time, Duncan was an unwavering companion through the destruction of Patti's marriage, her children inevitably leaving home one by one, and eventually, her decision to stop raising sheep. Patti's life on the farm is a reflection of beginnings and endings, and the cycle of seasons in all of our lives.
Patti Sherlock's working relationship with her Border Collie, Duncan, got her through the ups and downs of sixteen years on a sheep farm in Idaho. During that time, Duncan was an unwavering companion through the destruction of Patti's marriage, her children inevitably leaving home one by one, and eventually, her decision to stop raising sheep. Patti's life on the farm is a reflection of beginnings and endings, and the cycle of seasons in all of our lives.
- GenresDogsNonfictionAnimals
256 pages, Hardcover
First published March 30, 2010
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Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews
January 19, 2014
I basically don’t read memoirs (which means I kind of do, occasionally, if one falls into my hands, but I don’t seek them out). This one was really good, though — good as a story, well written. The author is a writer, and the structure of this memoir shows that.
You know, I am always saying that a person has to be crazy to get a border collie — unless they have sheep. Well, the author DID have sheep; she and her family raised sheep, and they needed a border collie to be a working dog.
Though the book isn’t about that, really. That is the frame within which we get the story of Patti Sherlock’s life. Not the whole thing, no, but . . . enough. I think I may steal elements of that life for a protagonist, some day. Because it has just the right kind of structure to be perfect for fiction. Which is too bad, in a way, since the author’s life had some grim stuff in it. Which she overcame, you know, or I would have hated the book. But, yes, there was stuff to overcome.
And then there’s the dog. And a beautiful insight about what dogs mean to us:
“You’ve heard plenty of times how dogs love us unconditionally . . . dogs show us how to live big. They do everything with gusto . . . But here’s what strikes me as most important. And it’s not about what they give us, but about something we give ourselves. We get to love a dog full out. . . . we don’t often give our hearts without reserve. With dogs, though, we can. Our feeling isn’t complicated by hurts of the past or about our independence. We feel no need to be coy or cautious. The humans we love have aspirations that don’t always mesh with ours, and when we come up against those different longings, we rein ourselves in. But we aren’t so scared about loving a dog. . . . So we open our hearts to them and discover our hearts hold an extravagant amount of love. We let it flow out. Think what this does for us as people. Think how that enlarges us.”
I sure couldn’t put it better than that.
You know, I am always saying that a person has to be crazy to get a border collie — unless they have sheep. Well, the author DID have sheep; she and her family raised sheep, and they needed a border collie to be a working dog.
Though the book isn’t about that, really. That is the frame within which we get the story of Patti Sherlock’s life. Not the whole thing, no, but . . . enough. I think I may steal elements of that life for a protagonist, some day. Because it has just the right kind of structure to be perfect for fiction. Which is too bad, in a way, since the author’s life had some grim stuff in it. Which she overcame, you know, or I would have hated the book. But, yes, there was stuff to overcome.
And then there’s the dog. And a beautiful insight about what dogs mean to us:
“You’ve heard plenty of times how dogs love us unconditionally . . . dogs show us how to live big. They do everything with gusto . . . But here’s what strikes me as most important. And it’s not about what they give us, but about something we give ourselves. We get to love a dog full out. . . . we don’t often give our hearts without reserve. With dogs, though, we can. Our feeling isn’t complicated by hurts of the past or about our independence. We feel no need to be coy or cautious. The humans we love have aspirations that don’t always mesh with ours, and when we come up against those different longings, we rein ourselves in. But we aren’t so scared about loving a dog. . . . So we open our hearts to them and discover our hearts hold an extravagant amount of love. We let it flow out. Think what this does for us as people. Think how that enlarges us.”
I sure couldn’t put it better than that.
April 5, 2015
This is one of the most touching and powerful dog stories I've ever read. For all animal lovers!
August 6, 2015
Heartbreakingly beautiful. I've never had a book bring me to tears but I found myself sobbing. To any animal lover, this book is a must read.
February 18, 2026
Less of a review, more of a reflection, though I did enjoy the book.
“Oh. That book,” my wife said when she saw me holding our copy of “A Dog for All Seasons” by Patti Sherlock. “You do know the dog dies at the end?”
Sorry for the spoiler. But as it’s a book about a dog, we all pretty much know how it ends. Because that’s pretty much how every book about a dog – or any animal – ends. Sure, not “Rascal,” by Sterling North. But damn few else.
And, in the end, we all know Rascal died too.
Thus is the nature of living, whether with animals or humans. Life passes. And we’re rarely prepared for the end of it. Dogs, who live in the moment, maybe have the better point of view, at least in the realm of mortality.
Once immortal, maybe we can learn things from each other.
Our own dog Dottie, now sixteen years old herself, gave us a scare last week, tumbling down a flight of stairs to end up in a shaking, crying heap at the bottom.
I’m not sure I liked how I reacted, yelling chastisement at the dog for not waiting for me to pick her up before she went pell-mell down the stairs, because picking her up is just what we do now when any amount of stairs are involved. She won’t ascend the four wooden steps on the back porch and balks usually at going down them, so I have no idea why the fourteen carpeted steps to the basement were so appealing that day.
So I was mad. Surely she didn’t understand the words, but knew the tone, and that is not what she needed. Chastisement in the moment rarely helps when all we really need is comfort.
Madder still it happened after hours, when no vets were open to see her. Madder still she woke crying during the night and I sacrificed sleep to hold her in my arms as we both fitfully tried to get some rest, waiting for the sun to crawl over the horizon.
Our vet was booked, so we took her to a vet we’d used previously until our emergency backup dog, Daisy, quailed at the ride there, knowing each time she was riding to her doom. We picked a vet closer to home so the anxiety of the trip was as short as the several-block trip.
The vet gave Dottie some pain meds and a cautious bill of health, and for the most part she’s been fine since. But I still don’t like that I yelled.
It didn’t help that at the bottom of the stairs Dasy was too fixated on getting her nightly rawhide to bother with her injured sister, and that I hurled the treat bag at our oldest, asking for help in a less-than-nice voice.
So when George kicked Duncan, the dog in Sherlock’s book, I felt a wince of regret. Never mind I’d stayed up that night cradling that little idiot dog in my arms after the fall. I’d hollered at her. Not what she nor our oldest needed at the time.
But that’s what pets do. They bring joy and laughter, sadness and pain. It’s what all creatures do. I can imagine God wanting to pick up our shaking forms at the bottom of a metaphorical staircase we’ve just tumbled down, irritated that the help that was forthcoming was ignored or the counsel given was forgotten, even momentarily.
“For those of us who have been loved by a great dog, who have, in turn, loved the dog back, we can say, and this is not too large a statement, we have known Glory in our lives,” Sherlock writes at the conclusion of her story.
Glory, indeed.
And maybe, when inevitably the dog passes and is with us no longer, a little bit of grace as well.
“Oh. That book,” my wife said when she saw me holding our copy of “A Dog for All Seasons” by Patti Sherlock. “You do know the dog dies at the end?”
Sorry for the spoiler. But as it’s a book about a dog, we all pretty much know how it ends. Because that’s pretty much how every book about a dog – or any animal – ends. Sure, not “Rascal,” by Sterling North. But damn few else.
And, in the end, we all know Rascal died too.
Thus is the nature of living, whether with animals or humans. Life passes. And we’re rarely prepared for the end of it. Dogs, who live in the moment, maybe have the better point of view, at least in the realm of mortality.
Once immortal, maybe we can learn things from each other.
Our own dog Dottie, now sixteen years old herself, gave us a scare last week, tumbling down a flight of stairs to end up in a shaking, crying heap at the bottom.
I’m not sure I liked how I reacted, yelling chastisement at the dog for not waiting for me to pick her up before she went pell-mell down the stairs, because picking her up is just what we do now when any amount of stairs are involved. She won’t ascend the four wooden steps on the back porch and balks usually at going down them, so I have no idea why the fourteen carpeted steps to the basement were so appealing that day.
So I was mad. Surely she didn’t understand the words, but knew the tone, and that is not what she needed. Chastisement in the moment rarely helps when all we really need is comfort.
Madder still it happened after hours, when no vets were open to see her. Madder still she woke crying during the night and I sacrificed sleep to hold her in my arms as we both fitfully tried to get some rest, waiting for the sun to crawl over the horizon.
Our vet was booked, so we took her to a vet we’d used previously until our emergency backup dog, Daisy, quailed at the ride there, knowing each time she was riding to her doom. We picked a vet closer to home so the anxiety of the trip was as short as the several-block trip.
The vet gave Dottie some pain meds and a cautious bill of health, and for the most part she’s been fine since. But I still don’t like that I yelled.
It didn’t help that at the bottom of the stairs Dasy was too fixated on getting her nightly rawhide to bother with her injured sister, and that I hurled the treat bag at our oldest, asking for help in a less-than-nice voice.
So when George kicked Duncan, the dog in Sherlock’s book, I felt a wince of regret. Never mind I’d stayed up that night cradling that little idiot dog in my arms after the fall. I’d hollered at her. Not what she nor our oldest needed at the time.
But that’s what pets do. They bring joy and laughter, sadness and pain. It’s what all creatures do. I can imagine God wanting to pick up our shaking forms at the bottom of a metaphorical staircase we’ve just tumbled down, irritated that the help that was forthcoming was ignored or the counsel given was forgotten, even momentarily.
“For those of us who have been loved by a great dog, who have, in turn, loved the dog back, we can say, and this is not too large a statement, we have known Glory in our lives,” Sherlock writes at the conclusion of her story.
Glory, indeed.
And maybe, when inevitably the dog passes and is with us no longer, a little bit of grace as well.
November 30, 2023
I found it interesting to learn about the sheep. Of course the story about Duncan, the wonderful dog, was very enjoyable. The parts that were hard to read were those about the author struggling to find her way, as well as those parts about animals suffering and dying.
June 13, 2017
This is one of my favorite books.
February 26, 2014
Don't read this dog book, A Dog for All Seasons, unless you're capable of handling the loss. 'Cause it happens. Once again, a wonderful dog story comes to an end when the dog leaves this world too soon.
Patti Sherlock's book is a wonderful account of her border collie named Duncan who lives to be sixteen years old, which in dog years is a long time but such a short time for the humans who love them. Patti recounts Duncan's last days as an old dog and her decision to put him down because the time has come. It's a hard thing to do. But for Duncan's sake, and his dignity, Patti does. (As we all must do when the time comes.)
Patti Sherlock's book is a wonderful account of her border collie named Duncan who lives to be sixteen years old, which in dog years is a long time but such a short time for the humans who love them. Patti recounts Duncan's last days as an old dog and her decision to put him down because the time has come. It's a hard thing to do. But for Duncan's sake, and his dignity, Patti does. (As we all must do when the time comes.)
January 26, 2014
Interesting read and a quick read. Illustrates the relationship between the author and her border collie on an Idaho on sheep ranch. You can tell she truly loved her dog Duncan. You can also get some insight about the needs of the border collie-beautiful dogs but they do need activity and the attention of their family
July 23, 2015
a nice read. farm life, sheep raising and dogs... and of course I cried at the end..
"For thoe of us who have been loved by a great dog, who have, in turn, loved the dog back, we can say, and this is not too large a statement, we have known Glory in our lives."
"For thoe of us who have been loved by a great dog, who have, in turn, loved the dog back, we can say, and this is not too large a statement, we have known Glory in our lives."
October 29, 2010
This is Patti's newest book for the adult crowd!
December 31, 2010
Disappointing read. I didn't like the protagonist. She was undeserving of her dogs' love. Nice picture of a beautiful dog on the dustcover though.
June 16, 2011
Enjoyable, and interesting look in to the life of raising sheep and sheepdogs.
June 28, 2011
easy read - dog has more sense than the auther.
March 7, 2012
I am blessed to have a border collie named Browny in my life as well as three cats. I'm glad I read this book.
September 13, 2014
A "great read"…..sentimental - just enough…. clearly personal….vivid….Thank you to Patti for memoir truly from the heart.
Want to Read
November 27, 2018good
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Displaying 1 - 16 of 16 reviews