Monday, November 30, 2009

Dog Training with Derek

Several weeks ago, my friend & dog trainer Derek Fisher came up to visit for a few days. Despite the absolutely terrible weather- wind & rain everyday- we spent most of the time working dogs. Derek brought his Jen and Mirk, along with two young dogs he's training, Maid & Bock. Derek & Jen laid down an awesome qualifying run in the semi-finals at the National Sheepdog Finals this year. I really like Jen, she's a sweet little dog, and very stylish. I like her enough that I put myself on the list for a future pup of hers. Derek was kind enough to take Jen out and shed off my rams so I didn't have to pen sort the ewes. Then, they practiced their international shedding and shed the ewes off from the market lambs so we could work just the lambs.


My own dog, Nick, is a an over-runner. He pretty much inevitably slices in at the top of his outruns, then runs too far past balance. I've been correcting him without much success. Derek watched us do one run, looked at me, and said, "You're correcting him too late. You can't fix him once he's already wrong." DUH! I sent Nick again, hollered BEFORE he over-ran, and he turned in right on balance. I've also gotten Nick to widen his outrun by correcting & resending him the moment he shows the slightest signs of cutting in. It's worked wonders! I even sent Nick on a couple of totally blind outruns last week- I knew the sheep were behind the orchard, but he didn't. He took off wide, hit the fence line, followed it around and out of my sight. I was getting worried when the sheep come over the hill with my little brown dog right behind them! I was so damn proud! I'm beginning to think that Diane was right when she told me I had an open dog on my hands.



The other thing I wanted to work on when Derek was here was putting a grip on Nick. Nick is a strong dog, and generally very pushy on sheep, but he has virtually no grip. Every now and then, though, a certain ewe or lamb will stand him down and Nick will back off. Derek put a few lambs in a pen (these are Feb-born lambs; they weigh 90-100 Lbs. Not little, fuzzy new lambs), and sent Jen in for back-up. Mostly, Derek had me flank Nick around the lambs while we attempted to get the lambs to scatter, to get Nick worked up about keeping the sheep together. Nick was confused at first, but one of the half-Katahdin lambs decided that she wanted no part of this game and kept splitting off. Nick finally got the idea, and nabbed the lamb when she came after him. In the pen, it seemed like Nick became more confident backing down the sheep, but I wasn't so sure about out in the "real world." A few days later, old number 14, a ewe I know to pushy & argumentative, decided she didn't really want to move and turned on Nick & stomped at him. Nick laid down, but didn't avert his gaze, and I asked him to walk up. He did. No hesitation. Walked right into a ewe who has come after him before. Number 14 (sorry, she has no "real" name) lowered her head, Nick showed her his teeth, and that was that. Yay! My dog WILL bite sheep when necessary!


With Lu gone, I've been spending a lot more time with Nick, out working sheep, both training sessions, and actual work. Nick's is running consistently wider, he's steadying down, and his driving is coming along nicely. He still drifts to the away side when driving, but I'm getting faster & better at correcting him.


I really, really like working dogs. I think I've gone nuts, but I'm thinking about a pup next. I'm on the bottom of the list for a Diane Pagel's Nan x Bobby Dalziel's Joe pup, and the top (I think) of the list for a Derek's Jen x whatever stud he picks pup... No, I won't be raising two! I'm not THAT crazy!


One day when Derek & I were out working, our local professional photographer came & took photos of Derek working. Well, of Derek's dogs working (yes, Derek, you're very photogenic, too, but people mostly want to dogs). Steve, the photographer, had some of the prints at the Pre-School Bazaar, Lopez's annual shop-til-you-drop fundraising extravaganza, and they were really nice. Someone was just buying a print of Mirk working some lambs when we walked up to Steve's booth. I can't wait to see the rest of the set!

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Leash your damn dog! And other more pleasnt things

This is my PSA for the year: LEASH YOUR DAMN DOG! And by "leash" I mean tie it up, fence it in, keep it inside, but contain the sheep-mauling fucker or someone will shoot it. If I had a gun, that someone would be me. It's legal in this county to shoot a dog that's harassing livestock. Trust me. I asked the (hot!) deputy.


On Wednesday, I chased a dog out of someone else's sheep. It had put holes in one, and stressed the rest. My sheep are right across the street. I chased the dog all the way home, hoping I'd catch it before it got there. I was planning on wholloping it with the large piece of wood I was carrying. And maybe taking it to the sheriff. Anyone who knows me knows I like dogs- ask the happy collie curled up by the fireplace. I, however, HATE dogs that go after sheep! I've lost sheep to a dog. It's never "Not my dog!" Nevermind the other dangers a loose dog faces, like cars. Just keep your dam dog contained.


Okay, on to better things, of a various and sundry sort.


This is the first year I don't have a Cotswold ram. I was going to borrow a cross-bred ram lamb, but decided he probably couldn't reach the necessary parts of my very tall ewes. Then I hurt my back and couldn't move for a week, and so my ewes are just now getting bred- roughly six weeks later than usual. Instead of a ram lamb, I borrowed the ram lamb's sire, Tex, KT's unoriginally named Texel. I personally think Tex is an ass- he's one of the few rams who has come after me more than once, and his daughters are kinda whacko. He does, however, throw a nice market lamb, and I'm not planning on keeping any of these crosses. And my ewes like him. Maybe it's his big, hulking body. Maybe it's the funny faces he makes as he chases them around. Maybe it's the way he tries to mount them when they're eating. Probably it's the bloody head wound caused by Clint, the one-horned Katahdin ram.


This Tuesday is Turkey Day. No, not Thanksgiving. My seven Norfolk (Spanish) Black and five Broad Breasted Bronze turkeys are headed to the freezer. I really like turkeys. They're hilarious. The Blacks are a heritage breed, and they're spectacular. The three big toms have been gobbling and strutting and generally acting like horny teenage boys for a few weeks, and they've provided endless entertainment. When one hen turkey gets loose, and Nick puts her back (yes, my Border Collie likes working turkeys), the toms court her like they've never seen her before. I kinda doubt turkey's memory... In any case, I'll be sad to see them go, but happy to have fewer chores to do (and a lower feed bill). I am looking forward to getting a box of little turkey peep-peeps in the mail next year. (Yes, I know. They're 'poults'. But I like peep-peeps better!)


Hot buttered rum. I love them. I'm drinking one now. I mean, it's alcohol and fat and sugar, what's not to like?


Potimarron Squash. It's a French heirloom variety, from 'potiron' for pumpkin and 'marron' for chestnut. Describes the flavour right on- sweet, but nutty. The texture, however, is not at all like a pumpkin. Instead, the Potimarron is a dry-fleshed squash, like a Kabocha, and totally smooth- not a hint of stringy-ness. I just roasted off a home-grown one to make into a pie tomorrow. I'll let you know how it turns out.


Kim & I are taking Sable (Nubian goat) and Amelia (Sable's half-Saanen doeling) to Anacortes to hang out with Hershey tomorrow. Hershey is a poorly named but very handsome black Nubian buck. Hopefully, next April, we'll have some of our own handsome Nubian bucklings. For once, I actually want males. We don't need any more goats, and it's easier to send even a good looking buckling to the freezer. And, as Kim discovered at Qulisascut, goat is delicious. 


Derek Fisher was here this week, and we had lots of fun working dogs. Nick & I learned a few things, but I'll save that for another post... When I haven't had a hot buttered rum... or two.