I left Fate alone with the sheep again today, and I felt a pang or two, it took me a few minutes to realize that it recalled those moments as a father when I saw Emma drive off in a car for the first time by herself,  or go off on a date, or leave home for college.

I was surprised at how ambivalent I felt. It was a kind of letting go. Letting so, I have learned, is essential both to peace of mind and spirituality. People who learn how to let go are wise. People who can’t are tethered, and they tether people and animals to them. I don’t want that for my kids, or for my dogs. I intensely dislike the very popular story of the Rainbow Bridge, it is story of narcissism and selfishness. My dogs do not need to be bound to me for all eternity.

Fate is a young puppy, and we have have worked hard together working with sheep and training, and that is an intimate thing, really, I had the sense of a separation again today, of a kind passage, a goodbye. It had that bittersweet feeling of being both good and sad at the same time.

Fate needs to be alone with the sheep. Like most people, I talk too much in training, I don’t give her enough time sometimes to think for herself, and border collies will do that given a chance, they evolve and learn and observe in surprising ways. Fate is a profoundly sweet and loving dog, she is also almost shockingly smart. One great thing about the breed is that when you screw up, you can usually correct it if you awaken.

They can change.

Like any nervous Dad, I watched  a bit nervously through the living room window to make sure she was all right. Maria thought it was too soon. Fate was very happy out there. She circled the sheep, followed them when they moved, as border collies will. She was appropriate, leaving them to graze. She approached them, and she is beginning to work with her eyes, meeting their gaze, even backing them down a bit. She is alert but not fearful.

I can trust her not to hurt them or run them around. She seems to really love just being with them. Good border collies are like that. At first, she kept looking for me, for Red. When she stops doing that, we’ll be there.

When I called Fate in, she did not rush to me or want to leave, so I sent her back out again. Training a dog like Fate is an emotional thing, I realize, she is so keen, has so much instinct, is so joyful in her work. I have worked very hard with her, I’ll show our work at the Bedlam Farm Open House in October on Columbus Day Weekend. I’m proud of us, I make a number of mistakes, like everyone does (TV trainers do not admit any) but spot them and learn from them and adapt.

Like all great dogs, Fate is a handful, and she has challenged me to be patient and clear and positive. I think I have risen to that. I am getting back into videos a bit. I’ll try and get them up on Facebook, I’m having trouble uploading them onto the blog. I don’t want to get too deeply into videos, I already have a big camera and love photography, I don’t want to be hauling all kinds of gadgets around while we work, I need to concentrate. I don’t even have to think about the camera.

So a new chapter for me, for Fate. Some independence. When people asked me what it was like being a parent, I said I felt my job was to make sure my daughter could live independently and happily without me. That was the work, to not be necessary, not to be necessary.

In Ireland, the dogs take the sheep out to graze, and hang out with them all day. That doesn’t happen here, where there is a lot of land. But there is no reason Fate shouldn’t be able to hand out with the sheep for hours if she wishes. I  just have to let go.

I hope my daughter feels free to live her life without being enmeshed with me or worrying much about me. Fate is not a child, and herders and dogs are very necessary and important to one another – sheepherding is not something done entirely alone.

But still, there is a kind of moving on quality about Fate Alone, it brings back some memories, it evokes satisfaction and yes, some melancholy. I like melancholy sometimes, it is sweet and cleansing like a soft shower on a hot day. It reminds me that letting go, like change, is a part of the human experience, it calls for awakening and acceptance.

I’m getting back into videos again, I don’t want to be too encumbered by equipment every time I go outside, I have a big camera and I love photography. But I took a short video and put it up on youtube so you can come along. We’ll see how it goes.

The truly great dog loves it’s independence, as well as it’s humans. The truly evolved human knows how and when to let go.