snapper_37 said:
If you do go for rescue (pretty please

), it may take a long time finding the 'right one' but it's worth it in the end. Remember also that these dogs have usually had a bit of a rough time in life and may need a hell of a lot of patience and love.
My parents had a German Shepherd cross named Sam. They loved him to bits and took him for long walks 2 or 3 times a day after they retired. Unfortunately, he came to a tragic end. He was a powerful dog and pulled himself free from my mother and ran across a busy road to check out another dog. He was hit by a car and had to be put down where he lay.
My parents were so traumatised that they said they'd never have another dog, despite having been dog-owners for over 40 years.
They went through a long grieving process but eventually my sister sensed that they might be ready for another dog. She went to see the folks one day and said that she was taking them out a drive. They were a bit annoyed when she turned up the drive to the rescue dog centre, but she persuaded them to go inside with her.
My dad had mobility problems so he asked for a chair and sat down while my mum and sister were shown round the kennels. They saw a number of nice dogs and were finding it difficult to choose one. Then they spotted a very depressed-looking dog, a Labrador cross with just a hint of German Shepherd in him. His name was Sam...
The kennel maid said that Sam had been very badly mistreated by his previous owners. My mum wanted to take a closer look at him, so they opened the cage door and called to him. He walked out ever-so-slowly, and slumped at my mother's feet, looking very glum.
My dad called from the other end of the building - "Have you chosen a dog yet?" Sam's ears pricked up. He leapt to his feet, looked towards my father then started running towards him as fast as he could.
The kennel maid, my mother and sister went running after the dog. By the the time they caught him, he had his front paws on my dad's lap and was trying to lick his face. It wasn't so much a case of them choosing the dog, the dog chose my father!
My parents arranged to pick Sam up the following week. Again, he'd been moping around the kennels until my dad turned up and then became very excited. The dog obviously knew what kind of owner he wanted. My folks had 11 or 12 great years with him. They said that they thought the old Sam had been reincarnated in the young one. I could see what they meant, but I think that the process is supposed to involve the transfer of the spirit into an unborn being, not one already 2 years old when the other dies! Still, he was a great dog.
PS As for Paul - mad or not, I'd go for the Border Collie!