Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Life of a Working Dog


It may all look like fun, but being a sheepdog is tough work. Sometimes I am envious of my true sheep herding brethren. Herding people and cats has got to be tougher than white fluffy sheepies.


We went for a very long walk tonight, ate a big supper, and then it is clearly time for an early bed. So I stand in the hallway to the bedroom for a while and urge them gently with my mental powers. That gets more tiring, so I go stare down Nate for a while, with the occasional clearing of my throat. I can tell he's tired too and fighting it. Ignoring me does not get us closer to the bed. Then I go back to the hallway and bark. Once. Pause. Again. Nothing. So I go to Mom, I know she's ready for bed and will clearly hear my request. Maybe a little bark here too. Once. Again. One more. Then she does the whole, "outside?" thing. I mean, come on, how could I be misunderstood here?


Finally, Nate says, "He's herding us to bed." Duh. So, one by one, my vastly uncontrollable sheep head to bed. One, Nate's in the bed. Two, Mom is in the bed. And then, (and isn't it just like a cat to do this) Misty takes my spot at the foot of the bed, even though her spot is supposed to be on Nate's chest. She lounges there mocking me until Nate finally hears my plea and asks her to move. Once I am settled, Anna (the other cat who is much more beautiful and loving) comes to snuggle somewhere warm.


All the sheep in one bed, lights out, the sheepdog can at last clock out. Or can he? After a brief respite on the bed and a dream or two, I jump down and assume my evening post in the doorway.


Bedtime, daytime, anytime, a sheepdog's work is never done.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What a great blog you have orso! Thanks for being such a good boy today. Its always fun when you stop by. ~Jason Lord