Thursday, July 12, 2007

Megan and the Butter Hound

Introducing the Center of the Universe. At least in her mind. If we forget, she does her best to remind us. Megan. Not a year old yet. Currently (read: at this very moment) making warp speed circles through the house in an attempt to get SallyDog to notice her and play. Meg is a rescue pup, so her parentage is unclear-she was found with her sister alongside a highway. But she's pretty much ALL border collie if you ask me. I had put out the word that I wanted a sheep herding dog. Meg was more than most people were willing to handle, and she herded everything, so I was the lucky one that was allowed to adopt her. She started on the sheep well, all the right tendencies. But my ewe, Dolce, decided she would just HAVE to murder the pup. After several attempts, Meg was watching her back so much that I decided to just give her a long break from sheep until she was older.
Enter the chickens. The last week of school the boys brought home six chicks from my nephew's kindergarten science class. Once they had feathered out we let them roam the yard. But we like to lock them in a large rabbit cage at night to keep them safe. Clancy started using Meg to herd the chickens in every evening. They wanted to roost in the cage anyway, so as long as Meg didn't rush, the chickens would stay headed in the right direction. She is excellent on her hold, down, and keeping the chickens between her and Clancy. And you can just see her grin when the cage door is closed and she knows she did her job. What a good girl! I figure she can work on her skills with the chickens, and this fall I will put her on the yearling ewes that she is already friendly with. We'll just keep the old ewes out of her way until she has a lot more confidence.
That is the plan anyway. It's clear to me that I would love Meg just as much if she turned out to be useless at the herding sheep thing. She's a gem. A true little love. Smart as a whip. A great family dog, and very well behaved considering her enormous energy level.
Speaking of of our dogs ISN'T! Greta Grub. She has discovered I usually leave the butter dish on the table after meals and she helps herself now. I chased her out of the house twice yesterday for that offense. And this morning when I made my toast she heard the clink of the knife on the dish and perked up her ears. I gave her the evil eye..."Don't even think it."

1 comment:

Michelle at Boulderneigh said...

What a compelling expression on Meg's face! And what a naughty dog Gretta is for helping herself to the butter - arrggg. I'm enjoying reading your blog from first to last and learning a bit about you.