Doggone luck!

March 8, 2011

Hey fellow seekers,

We’ve had at least a dozen dogs since Toby, Mr. Bill and Daniel. Tugger, from a friend of a friend, was the first cattle dog—slept on the hay in the barn where he could just be close to cows. But alas, in the fall of ’83 when we had to spend many days away from home, he fell in with outlaws that amused themselves by herding cattle where they could find them. Came home to find portable panels set up in the north field where a neighbor had reclaimed his stocker cattle. He said dogs had run his cattle up here, and by golly he shot one of them. Tug would have been an easy shot, coming up to be petted.

There were a few others before we picked up Buckwheat, a Blue Heeler like Tug, but just a pup. So he went through the stages of digging and chewing on everything before settling in for 13 years of companionship. We don’t work cattle or even hop into the pickup often enough for any dog to develop or keep much cow sense. After a few other miscues and house dogs like Chewy and Zoe, we found Mike,the Border Collie-Heeler. Last winter,his 10^th here, he apparently died in his sleep. When we heard he had nephew puppies, we had to try one.

First called Jordy and then Pupkus, we finally saddled him with the strange name of Mr. Barkley. Maybe it was a resemblance to Nick, Jared and Heath from The Big Valley, or maybe it was his awkward brilliance like the Barclay character on Star Trek, but the name was goofy enough to stick.  We soon found that he liked to romp around with calves and nip at their heels. It got out of hand when we were weaning and giving shots last fall. He never really identified with his formal name, so we hollered his nickname when he would chase a calf. Glad there was no big crew of outside help to wonder at the humans yelling, “Bark! Bark! Stop, Bark. Bark! I mean it!”

This winter, Master Barkley (for he had not yet reached his Mister age) discovered the dog across the road, Uncle Mike’s old running buddy Clifford. We don’t really know his name, but he is a Big Red Dog.  It got to where he would stay across the road some nights, as Mike use to. In late February we noticed it had been several days and then worried that we had removed the collar he had outgrown and not yet replaced it.  The next week an old friend said they had taken a slow Sunday drive back about then and noticed a black and white dog following for a while as they stopped and pointed while driving 10 miles an hour. After a river bridge and a railroad underpass, there came a point of no return.

Calling around, we found that he had been disturbing some heifers and naturally fell subject to animal control laws. The County Sheriff’s office said to try the Manhattan Animal Shelter, 40 miles away. It was too late when I called. Mr. Barkley had already been adopted by the time we found out what became of him. I hope they hang a better name on him this time around.

As for this place, it kind of needs a farm dog to hang out in the garage, chase rabbits or squirrels and trot up the lane with Clifford, but just let the cattle be. We’re looking for a little older one this time, and we’ll be sure to come up with a name he can easily respond to. Can’t say what it will be yet, but we’ll know when we see him. Meanwhile, the cowherd adjusted well to the calm–23% of our calves were born in the last three days!

Until next time… let’s aim for profit, target the brand and build tomorrow together

~Steve

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