Working a couple suns ago. Lots of snow. Went on big outrun, come-bye, brought my sheep, good. Did that a few times, more and more distance. Good. Then told to go away to me. Started to, then stopped. Looked back at my person. Was sure I'd lose my sheep if I went that way. Away to me. Started to, looked back, crossed over to come-bye. Bad choice. Lie down. Here. Away to me. Started, stopped, looked back. Away to me. Okay, I went away. Sheep didn't leave. I brought them. Did that a few more times. Good.
So, when I looked back at my person? Keeking. Not good for a sheepdog. Lack of confidence. Well, I'm confident now. And I trust my person's commands, for now.
So, don't call me a keeker. This picture here, I'm looking back. But I'm not working. I'm not keeking. Even if Hamish says so, I'm not.
Woofs,Rafe
Not a Keeker.
2 comments:
Maybe you were just making sure your person was OK!!! I think that's really admirable! Not keeking. Though I've never heard that term. I'll have to ask Stormy what it means; she's really smart!
Luv,
Dave
PS: Today is my honorary birthday! I think that's why the Mala-moms came to visit. Woo.
PPS: Amber said to say that Hamish looks mighty handsome in that picture!
My Human didn't realize until this past week that our next door neighbor uses cattle dogs to move (mooooooove) the cattle. Of course, I could have told her that!
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