And On The Eighth Day God Created Border Collies . . .

Or so Border Collie enthusiasts would have us believe. I've trained sport dogs and working dogs for well over 25 years. Sometime in the 1990s a friend told me, "Sooner or later, you'll break down and get a Border Collie. Anyone who is serious about competition does."

The problem was . . . I just wasn't serious enough about any kind of competition to buy a dog just to win at a particular sport. Then I discovered goats. I have said it before, and I'll say it again, goats are like cocaine. They take over your life and turn it upside down. What started out as a way to weed-eat my fence lines has grown into a business. I can buy a goat for $40, keep it for a while, and then re-sell the same goat for $140. On paper that sounds good. But it is a sad fact of life that raising goats could make Mother Teresa cuss like a sailor.

I needed help. And On The Eighth Day God Created Border Collies. Those words are golden to anyone who has ever tried to work livestock by themselves. I needed help. I needed a Border Collie. I found Lily in a feedlot in North Texas. Her parents were working cattle dogs. I picked her out, pulled the ticks off her, and proudly drove home with my first Border Collie.

That was six months ago, and now I cannot imagine how I ever got along without her. I know she's young and shouldn't be working stock yet, but I also realize that I can't do a lot around here without her, so unfortunately many times I have to ask a first grader to do college work. This isn't about titles. This is about coyotes. On my farm, if the young stock isn't up at night, it's eaten.

Torrential rains have returned. Dry pastures are now flooded. Lily and her goats are about the same age. None of them have experienced heavy rains and flooding until tonight. The heavens opened up and in a very short time the pen with the young females was under eight inches of water. Three inches of water filled their barn. The goats were standing on a shelf. I had to move the females into another pen on the far side of the property -- three pastures away. It was getting dark and it was still raining.

At first I tried the practical approach. Open the door. Call the goats with some feed. They hollered back but had NO intention of wading through floodwater to get to me and higher ground. "Don't MAKE me get the Border Collie!" I shouted at them. Apparently they didn't believe me.

Border Collie was only too happy to oblige. She stalked inside and they hustled their little asses out into the rain. Then we began the laborious trek to the south side of the property, to higher ground. Young Border Collie was forced to push grumpy goats across high water. By now it was so dark that I could only see the goats that were white, and the white of Border Collie's ruff. (Note to self: always have a dog with some white on it!)

We were doing well until the little beasts squeezed through the wrong gate and ended up in the stallion paddock. Border Collie could have stopped them, but I called her off because I didn't want her running goats over Stallion. Goats crowded into Stallion's stall. Stallion crowded in behind goats. The stall was flooding. I tried to get goats out of stall by myself. No way, Jose.

"Don't MAKE me get the Border Collie!"

Again, they were not convinced. I held Stallion while I asked Border Collie to move in. As soon as she slithered her little black and white self along the wall, the goats began to file back out in the rain like school children. Stallion stood in the corner, wondering what just happened.

Small creek had become raging current. Border Collie had to convince goats to jump water. By now I hated goats and didn't care if the coyotes did eat them, but Border Collie had much more confidence than I did. In short order, she had all the goats over the creek and back en route to the south pen. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped. It was raining harder and I could barely see the dog.

By the time I got there, Border Collie had all the goats by the gate. She held them while I opened the latch. My next problem was making sure that none of the goats inside the pen ran out while Border Collie moved the young females into the pen. I called her over. She glared in the pen at the other goats. They fell over themselves to back away from the gate. Then Border Collie made a quick circle and picked up the females who had already begun to wander off in the rain. (Did I mention how much I hate goats?)

Little Black & White Pup (AKA Kung Fu Panda) marched those idiots right back where they belonged and I locked the gate. Then she stood in the rain and shook herself. I got down on my knees and hugged her. We high-fived and had a party in the rain. She was quite pleased with herself.

In a perfect world, a dog her age would never have to do what she did this evening, but tonight I was so thankful for the generations of shepherds who bred a dog to go out in the rain, and get the job done.

On The Eighth Day God Created Border Collies.

 

Body By Border Collie

   

 

Since Other Half came into my life, his goal in life seems to be to plump me up. That, coupled with Middle Age, is doing a fine job of making "More Of Me To Love!" Other Half wants Man Food--meat and potatoes and more of it! Unfortunately, Other Half is also a damned fine cook. It's hard to resist a man who pushes steak at you that is so tender you can cut it with a fork. Changing his diet simply isn't gonna happen. But since diet is only half of the equation, I figure that exercise is the key to taking off some of these pounds. Unfortunately, Other Half's idea of exercise is walking out to the back pasture with cubes for the calves--and if there are too many cubes, or if it's too far, he's gonna ride a 4-wheeler. BUT . . . there is someone in my family who would make Dr. Oz proud--Border Collie!!!

Lily, the Border Collie, is so health-conscious that she practically poops granola. That little dog is a motion maniac, AND she eats a healthy diet. The dog refuses to eat salt and sugar. (Cross my heart! If I'm lying, I'm dying!!) Give that girl a potato chip and she looks at you like you're trying to poison her. Drop a cupcake on the floor? It'll stay there. Girlfriend doesn't do buttercream frosting! (I know!!! Can you believe this poor dog lives with me?!) Anyway, the dog is shaming me into exercising and eating a little better. After all, if a six-month old Border Collie knows that salt and sugar are bad for you, you'd think I'd have figured it out by now!

Her day starts at 7:30 AM regardless of what time I drag in the night before. She slithers across the bed to lick my face and inform me that (in case I missed it) the SUN is up! I don't like being reminded of this little fact when I've only been asleep for four hours anyway, so I end up throwing her outside. The poor Blue Heeler gets thrown out with her. Border Collie entertains herself (and Blue Heeler) by swimming in pond, chasing cats, barking at Porch Ponies, defending the neighborhood from the Trash Truck, chasing the cats some more, staring at the goats, and chasing the cats again. I sleep.

When I finally drag my ass out of bed, it is to ice up a Starbuck's Mocha Frappuccino in order to beat back the headache resulting from LCL (Low Caffeine Level). Border Collie peeks through the sliding glass door and begins to bounce up and down in place. By now she has burned approximately 4000 calories. I have burned 4.

With a few sips of caffeine in my system, I am ready to face the day--and the farm. So I open the patio door. Three dogs rush out while two dogs try to rush in. WHY!!!! Every freakin' morning!!! WHY PEOPLE??? The three dogs that have NOT been thrown outside at 7:30 AM because they don't CARE that the sun comes up every morning will rush outside to greet the day with wild joy (the Bloodhound will be baying loudly--yes, the neighbors must LOVE me.) Border Collie and Blue Heeler will try to rush inside. This ends up in a wreck--every freakin' morning! I step outside door and there is the mad scrambling of toenails on tile as they turn around and run back outside. All dogs then rush to barn. Border Collie is fast, so she rushes to barn and back six times before I stumble to the feed room. Border Collie has now burned 2000 more calories. I have burned 2 more.

We do our chores--feed and water all the livestock. (Dogs and humans eat last--they are not livestock.) After chores are done, it is now time to power walk up and down street. Since there is not enough caffeine in this state to allow me to walk five dogs at the same time, everyone waits in the yard except Border Collie who runs circles around me when she sees her pink leopard print collar! "YES! YES! YES! We are going for a walk!" By now Border Collie has been awake four hours. She has been in motion for three hours, fifty-nine minutes and thirty seconds.

I power walk down the street as Border Collie bounces along, playing tug-o-war with her leash. I move forward. For each step I take, Border Collie moves right, left, up, down, zig-zag, tug-tug, and shake-shake. She is often on three legs because one of her front legs will be caught in the leash. She will grin at me from time to time to make sure that I'm watching her. At the end of our workout, Border Collie has burned 6000 calories. I have burned 60.

That pretty much explains why she is a lean, mean, runnin' machine, and I . . . I like buttercream frosting. Hey! You gonna eat that cupcake?
:)

Friday and Saturday the boys spent the day building a new cow pen. Easter Sunday we worked cattle in the new pen. 

The Plan:

Step 1: Run cattle into roping arena.

Step 2: Run cattle through new rear gate that leads to new pen which leads to new chute which leads to new head gate!

Step 3: Catch cow in head gate. Doctor any cows that need doctoring. ID Tag the calves.

Step 4: Release cattle to allow them to run back into roping arena.

Sounds easy. Right?

Wrong! 

There were a couple of hitches in the plan. 

Hitch 1: Cattle had NO intention of running from arena through new gate.

Solution:  Border Collie

 Cowboy

Hitch 2: We didn't inform the cattle that they were supposed to run from the head gate back into the roping arena. 

Solution:  Border Collie

  Lily

 

Cowboy moved the cattle from the arena into the holding pen. The cowboys (Other Half, Son, & Dearest Friend Doug) moved the cattle through the chute and into the head gate. 

 

With the occasional help of a Border Collie

Lily picked up the cattle as they came through the gate and ran them back into the arena.  A job that would have taken hours otherwise, took less than an hour with 3 Cowhands, 2 Border Collies, and a new headgate.

GooooooooOOO TEAM!!!

 And the girls?

What did we do?

Contrary to what the boys will tell you, we did not sit on the couch eating bon bons watching Oprah while the boys worked.

Dear Friend Debbie supervised Cowboy,

. . .  and I handled Lily.  And I took pictures. And I let the bull get away because I was too busy taking pictures. So Lily had to go get him back.  Ooops!  Ma Bad!

Sorry Lil!

"No problem, Mom. I gotcha covered!"