I think if I worked on it for a day, I could come up with stockdog related lyrics to that song. What would you do if I gave the wrong flank? Would you take it or do what I meant? Right. Okay. Um
In preparation for the beginning of our trial season, I've been reading over some of my posts to remind myself of all those things I struggled with and overcame last year as far as my handling/trialing. The SEMASA trial is this coming weekend and I'm worried I'll revert to my old ways. They weren't exactly good ways, and I'd really like to avoid revisiting them if at all possible. (Take a look back at some of my posts if you missed it. There were times it was not a pretty sight.) To help me get through this week without falling into obsessive mode, I've compiled a list of things to keep in mind: Don't get lost in the hunt for a title. We're two legs away from Jig's WTCH. Even if we get it, that's just the beginning of another journey. There is SOOO much we need to work on yet. Watch the stock, not Jig. She's
Some of you have asked me how Dillon is coming along in his training. I don't mean to ignore him in my posts it's just that he doesn't get worked near as often as Jig right now. That's partly due to time constraints, but mostly it's because he's young yet (as I'm constantly reminded by several people any time I whine mention our problems). And he's a boy. Worse, he is currently suffering from a horrendous case of Young Boy Brain. Or, more correctly, he's enjoying it. I'm the one suffering. I can only hope it's not terminal because right now it tends to make me feel like this
I threatened you with promised an update (whether you want one or not) on Jig's training, so here it is. The best thing I ever did for this dog was invest in cattle of our own. I wish I would have done it years ago, but something else always came up. Plus, even four steers are a bit commitment of resources. In any case, we won't know until the SEMASA trial Memorial Weekend if our hard work is paying off, but I'm feeling a bit more confident in our chances. Trialing on cattle has always been tough for us because Jig likes them a bit too much. So much, as a matter of fact, she tends to forget I'm out there with her. That's not to say we haven't had our moments. They just happen to be few and far between and the rest have been
It's been a moderately eventful week here at the farm. It all started on the 26th with the very early arrival of twin ram lambs. We aren't scheduled to start lambing until this week, and the ewe that lambed didn't even appear bred. She also didn't have any bag to speak of. Yet, there they were, two tiny ram lambs. And there she was, no milk, first time mom, wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. Ol' softy that I am, I bundled up the boys and relocated them to the laundry room without much hope of their survival. One of them especially, the red one dubbed Crybaby, wasn't even able to stand, and I'm pretty certain neither of them could see yet. Their first milestone was living through the day. The next was surviving for 2 days. I had to enlist the aid of friends and family to feed them
Yesterday was a big day here on the farm. Yup. Mr. Rebel Kitten officially assumed his position as Barn Cat. Given the speed at which he moved from place to place, and the efficient manner in which he kept an eye on absolutely everything, I'd say he's going to do things his own freaking way. Then again, that seems to be the theme around here. Since Rebel seemed occupied with coming to terms with his new responsibilities, I decided to take advantage of the sunshine and firm footing (that's something of a rarity this time of year) and get some training in. The calves have been here a week and, though they've met the dogs, I haven't done anything beyond having Jig walk in on a nose to turn them. Having her own steers is going to do that girl a world of good. Okay, it's going to do us both a
With the end of February we said goodbye to Rowan, several weeks short of her 16th birthday. True story, she was the puppy I wasn't going to keep. I wanted a blue boy from that litter. The absolute last thing I wanted was a black-tri girl. My friend Joanne listened patiently as I told her how I needed to find just the right home for this pup because she was pushy, opinionated, and tough. She smiled when I finished and asked me what I looked for in a pup. I opened my mouth to answer, but the words that wanted to come out were all the ones I had just used to describe the pup I was looking to place. "But I want a blue boy!" I said, ignoring the title of this post; my long held adage from my riding days. Joanne, however, is very wise. The blue boys from that litter went
There was a time over winter when Dillon really didn't know if he was too fond of snow. He actually refused to pick up the Chuckit ball if it had any snow on it whatsoever. Somewhere along the line, that changed. Out for a play session over the weekend, Dillon sought out the snow banks still lingering around the small arena, ball in mouth. He spent a good ten minutes or more running their length, tossing the ball around, pouncing it into the snow, snorkeling down to get it so he could start all over again. I spent that time watching and laughing at his antics. We need to do that every now and again. Forget the crush of the To Do list, leave the stress of the day behind, and just revel in the moment. We need to be like our dogs and just have fun for the sake of having
A couple weeks ago I was working Dillon under Deb's watchful eye. We were taking a group of sheep out of the pen and it didn't go smoothly. Why would it? Dillon's just a youngster and we haven't worked a whole lot. We got the job done after a fashion. It weren't purty. Once the sheep were out, I laid Dillon down, and closed the gate. "Why are you closing the gate?" Deb asked. "Huh?" I tend to lose all ability to form coherent sentences when questioned as to my motives when I just know there's an ulterior reason behind the query. I looked at the empty pen. Looked at the sheep. Looked at Dillon. Shrugged. "Well
It seems like ages since I dragged my camera out. Judging by the quality of the photos and the fact I forgot to check my settings, I'd guess it has been ages. In any case, Jig & Dillon RRREEALLLLYYYYY needed to get out and blow off some steam, and the weather was actually decent. I'm just glad they can play together now. For the most part. Until Jig can't any more and pins Dillon and I have to break things up. Before and after, they have a grand ol' time.