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.