Dogs

Young Hopeful

Dogs / March 25, 2021 / By

Looking very stately in his prairie domain. This is Sox.

This young dog has a big year ahead of him. He is the up and coming young hopeful to take over for the senior dog. As a wee pup he was raised with a small group of withers and rams in a smaller paddock. There are many factors that go into deciding where a pup is raised and not every pup is raised in the same situation. Since he was an outside pup brought in, versus having a mother dog to tag along with, he wasn’t placed with flock and dog pack immediately but was stationed where I felt he could best bond to sheep.

These dogs are born with loyal, protective instincts but who/what they guard is what is taught to them by virtue of how they are set up and raised as pups.

Throughout his puppyhood he had regular visits and short stays with the main flock. Throughout this winter he had the freedom and capability to come and go from his group of sheep to the main flock. Right now he’s checking in on both groups of sheep but the majority of the time he camps out with his wethers and rams. He knows the pack of dogs and the pack know him. The wish and hope is that he’ll make the transition from the group of sheep he knows to the main flock, and that the pack lets him work there.

Meanwhile the senior dog is trucking right along, albeit at a much slower pace now. He’s in the line up in the photo below. I attempted to retire him to the yard this winter but he was miserable with that option. So I let him go back where he wanted to be and he managed the winter just fine.

While warm Spring weather hasn’t quite landed on our doorstep yet the chaos that comes with Spring certainly has. The weeks are filling up fast as I tackle farm business paperwork and preparations for shearing which is just around the corner. But busy or no, daily jaunts across the prairie land are a well established and essential habit, not to mention a constant reminder that there is so much to be grateful for.

A Whole Lot Of Canine

Dogs / February 26, 2021 / By

Each guardian dog grows into a signature habit, a routine move they can be recognized by. Some like to melt into the flock, some always show up to lead on a move, one always stays on the fringe. This fellow, at one year of age, is showing his preference for finding lookout points and watching horizons.

In the pack no one interferes with another individuals way of working. The society of dogs is a marvel, not because it is always calm and kind – it is far from that at times, but because it is so fluid. Fluid meaning the pack is not stagnant, it will change when it needs to as often as it needs to. Fluid meaning also the smoothness of a pack when it is in working order.

This winter the dogs have sorted themselves into pairs with the senior dog being the odd man out. The female AkbashX and the male Maremma are the top pair. Then there is the black pup and the female Maremma who have become fast friends. The third pair is the two Anatolian males who are sticking together and are often with the rams.

I have no say in the matter. Let me rephrase that – I understand there is no need for me to have any say, that it is better for them if I am just the observer. There is no reason to think I know better than they do about who to hang with and when. By summer time when the grazing shifts and the flock shifts the dogs will shift working order as well.

Experience has taught me that these periods of grace within a pack of dogs are cherished times. I find myself wishing for nothing to rock their boat so that this period of peace can last and last and last. I also notice the sting of realization that the guardian dog pack has some stark contrasts to the pack of Kelpies who reside with me. By virtue of living in a pack with me the Kelpie pack of dogs is less fluid. I meddle when I shouldn’t, I dismiss all the understanding gleaned from watching a pack of guardian dogs and hence the Kelpies get far too wrapped up in human living.

When we were experiencing our first few guardian dogs I felt sorry for them because they did not live with me in my comfy home. Now the tides have changed significantly and I feel more sorry for the Kelpies who have all the comforts of a home BUT must endure human whims which the guardian dogs are free of. This is not to say the Kelpies have it bad, they certainly don’t, but I must acknowledge they don’t quite have the same freedom to be dog. And now that I have lived with different types of working dogs for as long as I have I understand the importance of that freedom.

Some of this learning from the guardian dogs has trickled into the working relationship with the Kelpies. I no longer desire to control or micromanage their work as we commonly get taught to do with stock dogs. Instead I want to balance having a useful work dog with them having freedom to think for themselves and make choices. The difference is delicate and feels good. It feels like it’s a next step.

Highs and Lows of Weather and Life

Dogs, Sheep / February 5, 2021 / By

The week rolled in with beautiful temperatures and bearable breezes. Two pluses for a prairie winter. By the calendar breeding time for the ewes could go another week but by the weather I called it over and decided to sort rams out. The downside was that the timing coincided with Allen being away which meant the work fell to me alone. Well, not quite alone – it fell to me and Kelpies, but since it wasn’t a huge task I tackled it. The Kelpies were pulled out of pseudo hibernation and into action.

Writing about how actual tasks get done is writing I like the least. To tell all that had to be done in order to get done makes for a long and dull post, but to boil it down to just sorting some rams out does no justice to the workload either.

But the point of this isn’t the work that was done it was how the work unfolded. And on this day it unfolded seamlessly just like a beautiful weather day. I had a phenomenal time of it. No real hardship to have an attitude about and yet all of it a hardship in the way that doing any complicated task with a multitude of animals is. Particularly when on your own and in a winter landscape. I worked four stock dogs because I could, and each one was so willing and at ease with the work. I take their eagerness and help, I need it.

The day was so thoroughly and completely good even the exhaustion at the end was gratitude making. I wish I could say it always goes like this but this kind of work day is more rare than that – far more rare than I like to admit.

By caparison the next day was just calm and simplistic and restful – which it needed to be. This morning the weather was turning, cold was coming on again. Some of the coldest cold of the winter is on its way. I was extra pleased to have done the sorting two days prior. There is no long complicated work at hand this day. Just the somewhat complicated morning routine of unrolling hay amidst a swarm of winter hungry woolies who have no regard for a moving tractor.

I ran over a ewe lamb. A favourite Corriedale ewe lamb. She didn’t suffer.

Feeling stunned, I placed dishes of food down for the guardian dogs who pay no mind to the dead sheep. I pulled the warm, wooly body over to the front end loader. While the dogs ate I stood watching the little Corriedale body and felt a brutal low moving in. I’m so utterly responsible but I feel so cheated. And angry that now I must deal with a dead body. A task that feels unbearably complicated to my spirit no matter if the physical task actually is or isn’t.

This week ticked along just like the weather, complete with beautiful highs and brutal lows.

A heavy body leans against my thigh. The senior guardian dog seeking attention after eating. A second dog approaches with head and tail low, and slips a white muzzle under my gloved hand. Canine reassurance. I take it, Lord knows I need it.