Brought up on a farm, Colin Whittemore's life was interwoven with dogs from the start. He writes of the welsh sheepdogs his father used on his dairy farm to bring in the cattle twice daily, but also of the farm dogs taken to the pub to lie silently under a table. He observes that these working dogs never played, chased a ball or fetched sticks: farm dogs took their delight in working, whether rounding up livestock, ratting or guarding. But throughout his life his mother also had 'house dogs', adored pets which she trusted implicitly to accompany children as they roamed freely all day long in the countryside, relied on to stop youngsters from getting in dangerous situations or to run for help. Colin writes with first-hand experience of the 'gatherings' when different hill farmers let their dogs use their own initiative out of sight, returning lost sheep from miles away, working as a team. He writes of settling in new puppies, choosing dogs, dogs choosing their 'masters', gun dogs, terriers, collies and his beloved teckels, the companions of much of his life and his old age. He also writes movingly about the family dogs in his life who have bonded humans together, seen them through hardships, shown wisdom often lacking in their owners.