Many years ago, while watching a dog show on television, I had a "love at first sight" moment. It was the first time I had ever seen, or heard of for that matter, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi. The dog's name was Cassie, and as her handler trotted her around the show ring, my heart just melted. Even with the rapid motion of her stumpy legs, her movements were graceful, fluid and, well, just as cute as he
ck. I knew that I would one day have to have one of these short-legged, tailless little dynamos. After "retiring" years later, my search for the perfect corgi began. I had read much about the breed and knew the physical characteristics I wanted in my corgi...the color, the markings, the coat, the ear size, the length of the tail, and on and on. I had no idea that it would be so difficult to feel confident that I'd found anything close to the breed standard in an 8 week old puppy. Finding the one whose temperament is right for the breed was even tougher. Ultimately, I threw caution to the wind, followed the advice of an old farmer, & "let the puppy choose me". I have never regretted that decision...the little pup who chose me matured into the exact Corgi that I was looking for. Her registered name, (or as my dear brother would jokingly say,"her Christian name") is "My Girl Quigley", usually shortened to Quigley or just simply Q.