Sheepdog News

Barbara Ray: the start of Meeker

Here at Meeker once again. The last few trips I’ve been handed my hat. It’s hard to take after traveling more than two thousand miles. Still, I’ll try to practice my good loser posture, although Ralph Pulfer often said, ” Show me a good loser and I’ll show you a loser.”

I’m sad to hear Beverly is not blogging. She is sad not to have made it into the Finals at Soldier Hollow nor the running at Meeker. She was ready and waiting in case some dog should pull up lame as she is next on the wait list. Bev is on a diet. She has lost 35 lbs and is looking great.

Monty got a great score today. I had heart failure when he almost crossed at my feet. A quickly shouted “lie down” corrected the error. Sheep were tough on the bring, but he showed them who was in charge. They danced around the fetch panels for a narrow miss but made the rest of the course. A good tough pen showed all his moves. Wish me luck with the youngster tomorrow!

Barbara Ray: Soldier Hollow

The incredible view of mountains makes Utah one of my favorite places to visit. Wow, it was hard to focus on dogging. Amanda and I made ourselves quite comfortable at the parking lot assigned to handlers in Midway, Utah. We placed a picnic table between our campers and feasted on many fine meals prepared by chef Amanda. In fact, she searched about for wild flowers and made several fine arrangements to dress up our little heaven.

The running at Soldier Hollow was difficult as promised, given that the yearling range ewes were larger than anything my dogs have ever experienced. Stella in particular was intimidated by their size and lack of willingness to yield to her presence in the same way sheep at home were doing. Monty, on the other hand, was not intimidated but was drawn to their unwillingness to move and was eager to show them he had the stuff to make it happen. My first goal was not to puke at the post, second was not to buy sheep. Getting in the prizes would only be my fantasy.

On the first day, only Stella ran. She was tight on her outrun coming inside the trees and sage brush outlining the outrun. As one might expect the sheep lifted off line at quite a clip and it was the “catch ’em story” for the first third of the fetch. After making the panels at warp speed, we were able to settle the sheep and carry on with a decent run. My plan for the next day was to give a few redirects and protect the top end points. Sad to say, on her second run the sheep ran off their mark, way down the hill and hid themselves under the porch of the little cabin on the field while Stella was still early on her outrun. Meanwhile, I was ready with the redirects I promised myself but there was no need as she took a perfect route. At the top she looked for sheep and seeing nothing she cast wider. Meantime I looked behind me, hoping for a rerun but none was offered. Next I gave a return whistle, as I suspected Stella to be at the set out by now. Many whistles and shouts found her return to the field where it was obvious she had started to back track the outrun. I directed her towards the hidden stock where quickly she startled them at the cabin. It was off to the races again! Skillfully she made the fetch panels and proceeded round the field being tested by several of the packet. Sadly, the pen did not happen this time. Turns out her score was not nearly good enough even had we made the pen to place in the top five. All in all I was very pleased with this youngster’s effort. Hopefully maturity and additional experience will bring better results in years to come.

My first run on the field with Monty was in the heat of the afternoon when the sheep were at their crankiest. He too came inside the debris on the field but the sheep stayed put as he lifted them well. He responded beautifully to my stops & flank whistles. The sheep constantly leaned on him down the fetch changing directions as I asked him to defend. We narrowly missed the fetch and used valuable time convincing the sheep to move round the drive. In the shedding ring I stirred up the sheep far too much trying to force and opening. Eventually we got a good shed but far too much time was used so the pen did not happen. The next day’s run was similar to the first with the heat and testing sheep. Apparently I asked too much direct forward movement from the dog and this ate up time on the course again. Having watched some the experienced western pros I plan on flicking him around at Meeker to get a better result. At least the shed was an improvement allowing additional time for the pen. Unfortunately time ran out before accomplishment. Amanda pointed out I didn’t use enough dog at the pen and it’s true. I just didn’t know Monty well enough to tell if he could take the pressure without a grip. Amanda assures me he can. I will try to improve this too at Meeker. Keep in mind, this was our first trial together. My timing with him needs refinement.

Yes, I’m impatient too!

Editor’s Note: Amanda seems all too slow about getting in her updates, doesn’t she? Perhaps a good public flogging will encourage her to be more timely! As most of you probably know already, she and Roz were the reserve champions at Soldier Hollow. But we need some more details, and hopefully we’ll get them soon. In the meantime, I have a couple of blog entries from Barbara Ray, written from when she was on her way out to Soldier Hollow. (I’m a little behind, because I spent the weekend at Donald McCaig’s sheepdog trial–great fun, but a black hole as far as Internet and cell service goes!)

From Barbara, 9/2/2011: I am very nervous blogging (Editor’s Note: This word was sent to me as “blobbing,” which I really loved and almost left as is. The visual of Barbara, Amanda, and Bev blobbing along is terrific!) alongside my sisters Amanda and Beverly. For starters, they have twice my I.Q. and I write as if English were my third language. Then there are the little buttons on this phone which increase my already huge number of typos. Heather, please cover up my mistakes.

Predeparture days were hurried and not without trouble. I had to market and deliver my lambs plus buy and pick up a new bull as well as sell the old bull. Ewe flock and cows had to be put on fresh pasture so they would not cause trouble while I’m away. All this is an excuse for not noticing Stella was in season till I found her tied with Monty.

9/3/2011: My trek to Utah was not without its problems. On day two I had a blow out most likely caused by debris thrown by a passing tractor trailer on I-29. Turns out this interstate has been closed due to flooding for months. The nice guys at the tire shop gave me new directions. Meanwhile the dogs enjoyed a break from the bouncing and got some much desired exercise. I finally arrived safely late Tuesday night. Robin French and Dick & Cheryl Williams were already there. We all want our dogs to acclimate to the 7000′ altitude. Tomorrow I join Amanda at Shauna Gourley’s to work dogs.

9/4/2011: Fantastic workout for all. Shauna trailered 15 range ewes to an alfalfa field and we all fetched sheep back and forth. Monty’s loyalty was tested as we picked up sheep while Amanda was setting with Dorrie in high season. He looked her way but took an immediate redirect. As we were on route back to Shauna’s a school crossing guard jumped right out in front of me. I was unable to stop before the intersection so made the wrong decision to ease on through. I got a ticket from the cop and a finger from the crossing guard.

Amanda: Enjoying the In-Between

Today is quiet and in between. I run dogs here in Cranbrook this morning, stock up and head south to Utah. The coffee is waking up just from the smell. The Blossom Dearie, dulcet. Bev and I stayed over, after a dining at Cranbrook’s schnitzel house in the entertaining company of Kristi Oikawa.

The trial featured two competitions so some of the group shots you see may be those running only for the Canadian championships, like Bev and I or others who ran for the Western Canadian Championships.



The first gather to right was straightforward, with very few dogs needed insurance redirects, spotted with horses, so very visible. The trick was, that the horse remained visible when the dogs were sent back for the second gather. Most settled on the first horse, with a cross following shortly afterwards, only a couple of dogs going back cleanly. The second gather was blind and long way back with the spotting horse buried in a swale. The sheep remained a good test throughout the trial, demanding authority and control, to move around the course. The morning started off very cool and deteriorated to hot by noon. The afternoon dogs were disadvantaged but still produced the winner late in the day, Scott Glen and Don.



On Saturday afternoon I took a spectacular break from the dog running to go fly fishing on the St Mary’s River. The scenery was breath taking. I was guided on a rafting trip starting at St Mary’s Lake and floating miles downstream, fly rod in hand. I snagged a couple of merry little cutthroats, and there was lots of swirling activity on my fly. I missed the handlers’ dinner. As regrettable as that may have been, it was worth it. What a trip.



The long trip to Utah is underway. The part through Montana was enjoyable this time with all is vistas, its bright mountain lakes and rushing rivers, looking like places you would like to stop and stay for while. I am Utah bound. A couple of days at Shauna Gourley’s, and onto Soldier Hollow.

Amanda: The Canadian Finals

Something in Heather’s interblog caught my attention “for those of you green with envy” Don’t be envious. The trip I am on is brute. I have covered 5000 kilometers. I have been tired and run down. I try to focus on my dogs and running them, which is what I am here to do. However, I started a course of prednisone for some runaway poison ivy, last Friday night. It is a very harsh drug to take. An addling drug.

The drive from Bowman North Dakota was about 17 hours. I rode I95 Until I tucked north on the west side Glacier National Park. The scenery was breathtaking under normal circumstances but the turquoise lakes and rivers had a hard time rising above my road weariness and generating some enthusiasm. When I crossed the border, into my home and native land, it felt like nowhere was home. Feist was restless. All the other dogs were fatigued and indifferent. I tried to stop in Cranbrook for some supplies but my rig was hopeless on the streets, (it is so big) I gave up and headed out to the trial site.



What a fantastic setting. I am now embarrassed to say it took me until the next morning to see the extreme beauty. Chemistry can be a bitch.

The rockies are draped all around us in a steady backdrop of picturesque. We are comfortably parked on an irrigated alfalfa field which some thoughtful person has recently irrigated to make less dust for us. Us. The sheepdog obsessive compulsives. The surrounding ground is honey coloured pasture, that supports Hereford cattle. There are beautiful walks in many directions that loosen up tension ridden dogs and people. Every day, when these people get up, they must hug themselves for the beauty that greets their morning



The sheep were remarkably consistent, mostly Columbian, yearling finewools. They have made a good test, demanding dogs to take them everywhere on the unfamiliar course and asking to be put in the pen, never just going. They push dogs everywhere, enforcer required. They came from a Hutterite colony in Alberta, so not a straight forward undertaking by any means. The field is about a four hundred yard outrun with 150 yards drives. The turn at the post is tight to the spectator fence, causing problems. Those who had trouble with them will be rethinking their interest in moving on to the big trials down south, in Utah and Colorado, where the sheep will be similar, but moreso.



The Gellings lead the first trial go through, Jean, with her dependable Star and husband Dennis taking up the second spot with Jan. Roz was called for grip at the pen. Clive continues to be in with a good go around the course. Beverly is still happening with at least Hemp and maybe Awel. The open running continues in the morning. All the open dogs were run yesterday. This morning hald the second open run was done, followed by the first go of the Nursery. Dorey leads the Nursery by three points. She was her gorgeous self. The balance of the open dogs will run tomorrow morning, deciding who runs in the double lift. And the second go of the Nursery will decide the Nursery champion. Sunday is our championship double lift day.

Amanda: On the Road Again

Editor’s Note: Amanda might be off line for a day or two as she travels, and she wanted to make sure everyone was properly entertained. So here’s some appropriate multimedia for your listening and viewing pleasure.

First, here’s John Denver singing Wild Montana Skies.

We also have Willie Nelson, On the Road Again

And for everyone who isn’t already purple with jealousy over this trip, here are some pictures of dogs swimming at the Slash J.

Amanda will be back soon to entertain us all!

Amanda: Of Feist and Men

Feist is a perfect road rider. She entertains the older bitches wrestling on the back seat. She has toys that command her attention when all else lets her down. She accepts the breaks without exuberance that might lead to risky behaviour, just cheerful and happy. She wants back in the truck when the break is concluded. She revels in the brief interludes of sheep activity but leaves it freely, confident that her life will have lots of sheep in it soon. She meets new dogs and usually gets them in a high spirited game. Everything is a happy adventure. Bad behaviours like chewing my shoes, are swiftly replaced with good ones, like chewing her toys. She learns so much, so fast. I had questioned myself about bringing her. But it doesn’t seem we should be apart.

Joni and I worked dogs in the early morning. The heat has come on in the mid day, so as to make dog running unappealing. The outruns were complicated by the presence of Joni’s big black cows and calves on one side and the test to a dog’s redirect commitments was made. Success was of the eventual variety. I like to have mistakes like that happen and be corrected, in settings other than trials. Joni is a hard-working dog hand with a fleet of interesting youngsters. I would have trouble moving from dog to dog and leaving the problems of the last one with the last one. She is succeeding, where I could only train one.

We are trying the local Mexican today. I am doing some laundry, kinda like a wagon train picking up momentum before it embarks across the desert, water, supplies, rested up. Tomorrow night I start the long ride to Cranbrook, taking me through Montana.

Amanda: Chez Joni

My drive to Bowman was slow and tedious with a couple of notable exceptions. I have crossed the Mississippi in many settings, in Louisiana, Memphis , La Crosse. It a western trip’s milestone. The mark. The river of so many legends, so storied, so sung about, so much beauty of lore. I made the error of following the garmin’s directions into the St. Paul Whole foods Market for supplies. The trip might have been ok in a car but with a thirty seven foot rig it was a nightmare, through surprisingly small streets. I always expect northern cities will have big streets to accommodate the winter snow. Not St. Paul. It had stuck to the horse-and-buggy-sized streets that it got from its forefathers. Quaint but awkward for me. I turned a forgettable corner but the sight that presented itself was anything but forgettable—I was on the bridge over the shining Mississippi, stopped in the sunlight. There was some kind of fund raising walk in the oncoming lane and cops had stopped the traffic. There it was, with the view of the swirling dark water, not muddy here, with all its hopefulness of motion, its bold ride to the gulf, past and bridges spanning it and the big bluffs. None of the walkers appeared to acknowledge its glory. They seemed to be discussing fundraising. But I was star struck.

The sign marking the continental divide is a quiet affirmation of progress. The land gave way from intense cropping and occasional livestock to big herds of black cows, some mega flocks of sheep and miles of blooming sunflowers, a startling crop to see full frontal. I have never made a secret of my enthusiasm for the prairies. I have a favoured painting in my office—a prairie landscape, a field of blooming flax. Yesterday, I rounded a bend in I94 and there was the flax field, cool, blue and waving gently in the light wind. I took a picture with my phone that cannot possibly do its beauty justice. But maybe you can get the idea.





I pulled into Joni Swanke’s to a trio of dog enthusiasts thrashing out basics with some youngsters. Shannon Fritz, and Jan Stebbins. I turned loose Feist for a little entertainment.

The dogs were free and relaxed and we happy houred it, and had a great dinner that included tomatoes, surreptitiously entering the United States, from my own garden.

This morning we got twenty fresh rambouillet lambs for some high powered dog running.

Amanda: Go West, Young Man

Two great things today. The Chicago skyline was a wonderful inspiration. What a great looking city, buzzing next to the big lake. I suppose it needs the bumper to bumper traffic to support the inspired skyline.The guys at home got a wolf. They sent a picture of it. That’ll make me and the guard dogs happy. If they could just get fifteen more maybe the slaughter would end.

Lots of driving but the sky is getting bigger. First stop for me is chez Joni Swanke.

Amanda: Get the Urge for Going (Or Not)

(Editor’s note: Nothing beats a young Joni Mitchell!)

I am trying to organize for west. I spent Saturday toiling in my garden to catch up for time lost during Kingston. I do not have to imagine what the weeds will be like in five weeks when I come back. I know they will be fantastic. But I seeded new arugula, lettuce, peas , beets, spinach, bok choy, anything with a taste for frost. I slow roasted a few trays of tomatoes and froze them. All the usual rushed things I could spend a month doing if I just stayed home. So many details commanding attention when you leave a busy farm.

But this is my sport. I have to be in it. Someone wrote today, describing Kingston Sheep Dog Trials as “summer theater”. We are all the players. Good one.

I will start off on Wednesday night, passing Toronto in the comfort of late evening, with four dogs. Clive and Roz are my main runners. Monty has gone to Barbara Ray for the fall, to have a crack at the big ticket dog items before us. Dorey is my Nursery runner. I will be challenged to keep her happy and occupied for a full month on the road. She just turned two. There isn’t much for Nursery dogs to do at Meeker or Soldier Hollow. At home she can hang, garden, chew, dig, and be a dog. The road is full of constraints for a youngster, even if they have done it before. I will bring my bicycle and try to give them a good run each day but some how, it doesn’t change the wearisome quality of road life. Feist, my twelve week old, is coming , to charm me and to help the pup become a road warrior. Sheep dog handling makes road riders of us.


If I don’t sound enthusiastic, it’s because I am not. The driving. And my home is loved. Beverly Lambert is a week ahead of me. I see she is not blogging so I will have to take over reporting for her. Maybe my writing for her will make her so anxious she will take over for herself.