I am not a shepherd and have never been drawn to the border collie/sheep trials people love so much to see. I was never very good at it, and I don’t think the sheep like it very much, and I never quite got the point of it for me. Perhaps this is why somebody put up a message on a website recently warning that I was considered a “major” fraud in the “Border Collie Community.” This did bring a smile to my face. I would have hated to be a minor one.  This seems my natural and comfortable place in the world, annoying various communities, especially those whose noses sometimes turn up. I think this perversity is not especially spiritual, or admirable, but I would hate to lose it.

I have to be honest, I very much respect the fact that the people who do organized sheepherding are very committed to their dogs and to this work. It is difficult and it keeps important traits alive. And people dearly love to see it. Some people like to argue that it’s wrong to ever get a dog from a breeder, but it would be quite a shame to see these remarkable abilities vanish from the animal world.

Sheepherding is  a fantasy in many ways.  It evokes ancient and mystical things. Shepherds have existed throughout human history, and there is a powerful pull to it. A true Irish shepherd came to visit the farm a few years ago, and stayed over and he had nice things to say about me and Rose. And I must admit that meant a lot to me.

He said it was almost impossible to imagine what these dogs like Rose meant to farmers in Europe for so many years, the difference between survival and extinction.  It is mythic. A neighbor who is a farmer humbled me one morning by asking me how much Rose cost. I told him she cost about $700 and laughed and said, “well, I just use a cup of grain.” So that’s why there are so few border collies around here, I thought. Real farmers don’t spend money on herding dogs, and know that there are plenty of cheaper and easier ways to move sheep around.

Today, I realized I hadn’t worked with Rose and the sheep for awhile. And they are leaving soon, to go back to Vermont for the winter. So I grabbed my camera and took her out in the pasture. I am glad to see them go, there are plenty of animals to care for in the winter, and I find sheep joyless, loud and dirty. But I will miss working with Rose until Spring. Seeing her focus, determination, intelligence, communicating with her through mumbles and hand signals and shouts. Today, Simon took off after her, trying to protecting the sheep. I was alarmed. Rose turned, nipped him on the nose, went around him, collected two sheep who were hiding behind him and chased them around to the others. He just stared at her, and then backed off.

Seeing this, I realized that Rose and I have been working together since the fall of 2003. Been through quite a bit with her, and seen her make decisions, live her life and evolve. I owe my life to her, in several different ways.  Not to mention that she graces the covers of several books. We barely have to even speak anymore, doing our “herding.” I would hate to take Rose to a herding trial. We both would hate it. But I love walking through the pastures with her, and being a part of this ancient ballet.

Rose deserves at least that much.