We’re a household of cowdogs. Border collie, Kelpie, heelers all were bred for the specific task of herding livestock. At one time or another we have had one of each or combinations of each breed to assist us on the ranch. Our dogs are varying parts pet and hired man. A well-trained animal can save a cowboy miles by eliminating the need for man and horse to pound through punishing, brushy creek bottoms. When living up to their purpose a stock dog assumes a very business-like attitude. In the last year, we’ve added a less business like canine to this mix. Tank is a Boston Terrier, known primarily for their absurd love of balls, squashed profiles, and flatulence.
Ahem, Tank here. I appreciate my master, don’t get me wrong. She keeps the food coming and supplies me with tennis balls, but I take issue with the public discussion of flatulence and her doubt in my cow dog ability. So while she is at the Post Office, I’m going to set the record straight.
Number 1: I alone, alerted the family of the coyotes’ presence in the horse pasture. Constant vigilance! That is what is required to keep the family safe. If they had just opened the door for me, I would have lined those invaders out.
Yes, I let the cat beat me up. I’m only trying to play fair. Moving on.
Number 2: It is true, I accompanied Her on a ride this summer. I was invited (not by Her), by my cowdog friend. Pssh, She thought I’d get distracted by silly birds and stay home. She underestimates my dedication to the craft of cowdoggery.
Clearly, she has forgotten that my father is Brian the Bullfighter.
Number 3: I was never in danger of getting lost or falling behind. What does she think all that ball chasing is for? Entertainment, pshaw. Conditioning, my friend, physical conditioning.
Twenty miles later, my partners and I ended our work day. I don’t know if Tank if planning on pursuing a cowdog career, but he certainly pursued a really, long nap.
Finally, she gets the facts correct. Best wishes for a happy holiday and a warm dog bed,