News
Centre Daily Times Article
 
Posted on Tue, Jul. 22, 2003 story:PUB_DESC
'Sheltie children' have been Howard woman's passion since the 1970s

asmeltz@centredaily.com
 

Under foot, in photo albums, sprinkled through conversation, indoors and outside, Robyn Fatula's Shetland sheepdogs are everywhere at her small-town home.

They greet you at the door. You see them in the kennel building behind the house. A puppy scampers across the living room floor.

They're better than best friends; they're part of the family fabric, in-home companions. All 13 of them.

"Wherever my kids were -- that's where my Shelties were," says Fatula, a veterinary technician at Dr. Leland Confer's clinic in Howard. "They just can't get enough of kids."

Fatula, who runs a boarding kennel and Sheltie breeding program at her home, has housed Shelties since the mid-1970s, when she started breeding the dogs.

Several of her "Sheltie children," she says, have gone on to capture American Kennel Club titles, not to mention high honors in other shows.

All in the family

But in this Howard household, flush with canines and one cat, these animals aren't just show dogs -- they're family.

"They all get house time," Fatula says as six Shelties relax on the floor around her. Each is house-trained and "really clings to the family," she says.

The passion began in '70s, when Fatula wanted a dog for her first child, Jill, who was born in 1974. She researched breeds, visited dog shows and ended up with a soft spot for Shelties.

They are, after all, "excellent with children, easy to train and fairly maintenance-free," Fatula says. "I liked the fact that they are smart, agile and fit right into the family."

Her first Sheltie, named Peter Pan, "was so intelligent (that) it would've been a waste to have him just as a family pet," she says. So, Fatula taught the dog some tricks and tried taking him to a show.

And he placed.

That was during the child-rearing years, though. The dogs took a back seat when she was raising her three daughters -- Megan, Jill and Moriah -- whose names later became an inspiration for Fatula's dog-boarding business.

Enter Mejimo Kennels.

When the girls were tikes, Fatula constantly had a dog or two around. She would breed a few litters per year. Mejimo was a dream, she says.

At night, Fatula would "read and read on how to better the breed."

She planned to create a breeding program and "go into the conformation part of the breed," which involves breeding Shelties that are as true to the original, intended breed traits as possible.

On the day side, the Shelties became an integral part of regular life. If a kid wandered too far from the yard, a herd of shelties would follow and knock her down -- a form of protection.

"They're very well socialized," Fatula says. The breed by nature is intended to be a herding dog, so they like to circle around people outside. And they'll "sometimes nip my butt or nip your heels because they're herding."

Six years ago, when she plunged full-force into the breeding and conformation realm, Fatula had years of studying, planning and experience on her side.

The result: One of her dogs has earned champion status during each of the past six years, with her dog-showing travels having taken her to Puerto Rico, Florida, Maine, Maryland, Michigan and Virginia Beach.

This spring, one of her winningest dogs, Mejimo Tri Surfing the Net, captured second-place honors at a national competition, where he was going up against 65 other Shelties. Mejimo Tri Surfing the Net also has scored several first-place awards in other shows.

Her second-winningest dog, Mejimo Cornerstone Esquire, recently placed sixth out of 45 dogs in its class at a national competition.

Now she's starting to try her hand at judging the matches themselves. She'll be going to New England this weekend to serve as a Sheltie judge, a role she's also been offered at a match in Clearfield.

"(Animals) feel comfortable around her," says Confer, with whom Fatula has worked about 15 years. "She has a great deal of empathy for all that animals that come through here."

Plus, Confer says, Fatula has patience and experience on her side.

"There's not a mean bone in their bodies," Fatula says, surrounded by Shelties. "I've never known a mean one."