A Dog is Just a Dog. But a Collie is a Collie! -Albert Payson Terhune

 Gray Dawn is near to my heart because we also have a Blue Merle Collie, CH Decor's Gun Smoke aka Dillon.    Gray Dawn was born on a gloomy morning at Sunnybank, the home of Albert Payson Terhune and Anice Terhune.  He was a troublemaker and Terhune wanted to get rid of him.  But he also had a hero's heart and turned out to be a fabulous collie dog.   I colored the black and white photo of Gray Dawn some years ago, and had dye sublimated it on wood for a friend who absolutely loves all things Sunnybank, but particularly Gray Dawn!   Hi Marilyn!  Here is a phot of Dillon.  CH Decor's Gun Smoke

 The Mistress and Lorraine

And she bullied him unmercifully—bossed the gentle giant in a shameful manner, crowding him from the warmest spot by the fire, brazenly yet daintily snatching from between his jaws the choicest bone of their joint dinner, hectoring her dignified victim into lawn-romps in hot weather when he would far rather have drowsed under the lakeside trees. [Pg 3] Her vagaries, her teasing, her occasional little flurries of temper, were borne by Lad not meekly, but joyously. All she did was, in his eyes, perfect. And Lady graciously allowed herself to be idolized, for she was marvelously human in some ways. Lad, a thoroughbred descended from a hundred generations of thoroughbreds, was less human and more disinterested. Life at The Place was wondrous pleasant for both the dogs. There were thick woods to roam in, side by side; there were squirrels to chase and rabbits to trail. (Yes, and if the squirrels had played fair and had not resorted to unsportsmanly tactics by climbing trees when close press...

  Three years earlier, when Lad was in his first prime (before the mighty chest and shoulders had filled out and the tawny coat had waxed so shaggy), Lady had been brought to The Place. She had been brought in the Master's overcoat pocket, rolled up into a fuzzy gold-gray ball of softness no bigger than a half-grown kitten. The Master had fished the month-old puppy out of the cavern of his pocket and set her down, asprawl and shivering and squealing, on the veranda floor. Lad had walked cautiously across the veranda, sniffed inquiry at the blinking pigmy who gallantly essayed to growl defiance up at the huge welcomer—and from that first moment he had taken her under his protection. First it had been the natural impulse of the thoroughbred—brute or human—to guard the helpless. Then, as the shapeless yellow baby grew into a slenderly graceful collie, his guardianship changed to stark adoration. He was Lady's life slave.

 The dear friend of Albert Payson Terhune.   Gray Dawn.  I did this colorization a few years ago, all by hand.  I use artificial intelligence now which greatly assists in the basic formation of colors, but it still requires quite a bit of hand work to "get it right".    Sometimes (usually) the AI wants to make all collie dogs sable.  Collie dogs come in 4 main colors with variants of each.  An in depth discussion of collie colors would require a genetic explanation, which I will leave to breeders and veterinarians.   The basic colors are Sable, Tricolor, Blue Merle, and White.   The story of Gray Dawn, as written by Albert Payson Terhune, is one of my favorites.  He was born on a gray dawn and was quite a character.  Terhune gave thought to giving up on Dawn, but later declared that his earlier thoughts were badly misplaced as Dawn became one of his favorites, and remains so with many Terhune fans to this day....

  The man-made canyons of Manhattan are muffled and quiet as an expected five inches of December snow begins to fall. Icy crystals crunch beneath the leather boots of the lone pedestrian as he trudges his way home from the Evening World. Great flakes dampen his eyes and cast a fog along the street, pierced only by the streetlamps and the leaking light from the heavily draped windows on this finger-numbing night. There is an introspective incidence that may occur in a snowstorm when a man walks alone. If one allows himself to dwell, such would be a time that insidious self examination may arise. He is disappointed that he is not more advanced in his career at this point. After all, he had turned thirty years old just days ago, and is beginning to feel mortal. A large and healthy man, a previous marriage with the loss of his wife in childbirth wreaked confusion and fear upon his very soul, he dared not dwell on it. No. He steels himself and is determined to work harder and faster and...

Paul Bransom, called the “Dean of American Animal Artists,” lived in New York City. He had a residence and studio on West 67th Street.   He was quite prolific and illustrated many of Albert Payson Terhune's stories and books.   Mr. Bransom was a self-taught artist whose formal education ended with the eighth grade of public school in Washington, where he was born.  As a child he watched and drew animals in his back yard and always hoped to become an artist.  At the age of 14 he took the first step toward that goal by becoming an apprentice to a draftsman for the United State Patent Office.  There he learned to use drafting tools as he made drawings of devices of all kinds submitted by inventors seeking patents. Illustration by Paul Bransom for James Oliver Curwood, Swift Lightning: a Story of Wild-Life Adventure in the Frozen North, Grosset & Dunlap, 1926 Colorizations and repairs by CB Heubach

 Just in case y'all don't think I have a collie.  This is Ch. Decor's Gun Smoke, call name Dillon.  He is my best canine buddy and is incredibly vocal about it.  

Lady was as much a part of Lad's everyday happiness as the sunshine itself.  She seemed to him quite as perfect, and as gloriously indispensable.