Black Dog

This seems to be my week for animal stories.  So here we go again.

When we moved to the farm we inherited a collie from the previous owner.  She was moving to an apartment and so we agreed to keep the dog.  She was our first collie and a great introduction to the breed.  However, this is about her best friend.  Dogs are very social and often make friends with other animals.  This friend was a black and white boarder collie who actually belonged to a neighbor.  I really don't know if the dog ever went home, he was at our house morning, noon, and night.  (rather like some teenagers several years later)  We never knew his name so we just referred to him as "the black dog" or later just Black Dog. 

I am fascinated by breeds of dogs and how much their characteristics are bred into them.  Black Dog was of a breed often known as Shepherds, because that is what they did.  They herded sheep.  You may have seen some of the very popular performances at the State Fair where these black and white wonders put on a herding show.  They are playful, industrious, intelligent, eager to please and hard workers.  Black Dog was no exception.  He would sit and look at you with his bright eyes just begging for you to tell him to do something.  Unfortunately we didn't know how to tell him. 

The fun would begin when hubby would get the cattle up to move them from field to field.  Black Dog would drop to his belly and start to ease his way behind the cattle.  Soon he would have one cut out and was moving it away--usually in the opposite direction than what hubby wanted.  So then hubby would start yelling and waving his arms.  Black Dog would grin and work harder.  Hubby would yell louder.  Black Dog would put new enthusiasm  into his herding. Now he had most of the cattle moving away from the gate and back into the field.  At this point hubby starts throwing clods and sticks and turning a deep shade of plum.  Soon the kids are in the action chasing the dog trying to get him out of the field.  With that the cows kick up their heels and head for the back forty.

The interesting thing is that Black Dog was herding perfectly.  He had every move down to a science.  How did he know how to do this?  He was a purebred dog, but he had never had any instruction on herding.  It just came from inside of him.  The problem wasn't his, it was ours.  He was willing to move cattle anywhere but we had no idea how to communicate with him to tell him where!  He would look at us with this quizzical expression on his face as though begging us to just tell him. 

I thought all of this was interesting and to be perfectly honest, funny.  The show that hubby and dog put on was entertainment at it's best. I could often be found at the fence cheering them on.  That is until the day Black Dog gave up on cows and decided to herd ducks.  I had a new hatching of babies and was enjoying sitting on the fence post watching them in the pond. I watched with amusement as Black Dog approached the pond bank.  He lay down and waited patiently until the ducklings decided to come ashore.  Slowly he crept closer and closer.  Easing his way carefully he got between them and the water.  As ducks do they all moved restlessly away from him, rather like water flowing in a ripple.  As soon as they moved in the direction he wanted he would drop to the ground motionless.  When they stopped moving, he would creep up behind them until they started to move forward.  Again he dropped to the ground.  Next time he eased just a little to the right, the flock moved to the left. Keeping a low profile and never hurrying he was moved the entire flock away from the pond and up into the field.  It was poetry in motion.  I was amazed at how perfectly he had herded his flock. 

Then I sat up with a jerk.  He was doing such a good job of keeping them moving that several of the babies were in trouble.  Ducks aren't designed to do a lot of walking.  Several of the little fellows were wearing out.  Some were trying to sit and a few were actually laying down.  This wasn't good, not good at all. Suddenly I jumped off the fence and started running through the field, waving my arms and yelling at Black Dog, all the while looking for some clods to throw.    Reaching my exhausted ducks I turned back to the pond to see hubby sitting on the fence laughing.  I guess he thought the show was pretty entertaining, too.