As the sheep run to me, Rosie breaks off into an outrun, the border collie run around the sheep – rather than after them – to head them off, and slow them down. Rose runs like a rabbit, and in two seconds, she was behind me, and the sheep pulled up. I frustrate the sheepherding people sometimes, but in truth, I mostly stand there and watch and take photos, and occasionally yell at Rosie, “get the sheep,” or “good girl, Rosie.”