Sam the Goat Dog
Sunny, 85/55, Fair to Change. Took my ol dog Sam with me to work on the barn last night. I've almost finished shoring up the walls, I have a ten foot section to go and I'll be done. Then I have to start removing the rotten floors in the granary, but that can be done rain or shine. I also helped a neighbor get in his sorghum cane he feeds his cows. He takes an old corn binder out and ties the cane into bundles, loads them onto his truck and takes them back to his place and stacks them. He says its great for the cows. I'm going to look into seeing if it's good for goats. If it is, I might start planting an acre or two of that.
Taking Sam reminded me of a story I had told earlier.
Every farm needs a good working dog. We have Sam. Sam is short for Samantha; she loves to go to the farm. Sam is a pound puppy. A breeder’s cull when a mongrel got a hold of a prized bird dog. She usually spends weekdays pointing out squirrels or birds at our place. Her favorite time though is the weekend.
Every Saturday morning at 8am I go out the door, dressed in my overalls. Sam sees the outfit and starts to get excited and starts jumping around the truck. I open the tailgate; she jumps in and we’re off to the farm. Usually, she gets to say hello to about fifty of her friends along the way. Seems they know what day it is too and they try to chase her in the four miles to our land.
The first thing we do is check on our layers or broilers. She’s better now, but the first times I took her out, she saw the birds and went into a point. It was a classic point, one leg up, tail straight back. The problem was, I couldn’t get her out of it. I called for her, she wouldn’t move. She must of thought she was in birddog heaven. I thought about planting a flower garden around her and making her a permanent part of the farm, but a quail got her eye and she went chasing and pointing after that.
Her best job tough is being a goat herder. Not your typical herder, but just as effective. Early on in her farming life, she decided to terrorize one of the month old kids. Momma goat was not going to have any part of that, and after a swift butt to the ribs, Sam became a goat herder extraordinaire. Let me explain her technique.
First she’ll come up to the barn with me all excited. If I go into the barn, she’ll wait for me outside. The goats see Sam and start to circle around. Sam see’s the goats coming for her, and remembering the butt, her ears start to lower. The goats circle gets tighter and too close for comfort for Sam, who starts whining and goes cowering under something. When I come out of the barn, I’ll see a circle of goats, but no Sam. I’ll call and she comes out all excited and brave, but doesn’t leave my side.
One day, I thought about how this could help me. I put Sam in the working pen, and told her to stay. Sure enough, the goats came towards her (all except Billy, which is why I had to resort to other techniques described in other stories). Her ears lowered, but they kept coming. Finally she started whining and crawled under the feed trough. The goats circled around the feed trough and I closed the gate with most of the goats inside. I called for Sam, she sprang up and came over to me and I let her out.
I probably won’t win many working dog competitions with my technique, but I know, every Saturday at 8am, I’ll come out that door and Sam the working dog will jump in the truck ready to whine and cower her way through another busy day of goat herding.
Taking Sam reminded me of a story I had told earlier.
Every farm needs a good working dog. We have Sam. Sam is short for Samantha; she loves to go to the farm. Sam is a pound puppy. A breeder’s cull when a mongrel got a hold of a prized bird dog. She usually spends weekdays pointing out squirrels or birds at our place. Her favorite time though is the weekend.
Every Saturday morning at 8am I go out the door, dressed in my overalls. Sam sees the outfit and starts to get excited and starts jumping around the truck. I open the tailgate; she jumps in and we’re off to the farm. Usually, she gets to say hello to about fifty of her friends along the way. Seems they know what day it is too and they try to chase her in the four miles to our land.
The first thing we do is check on our layers or broilers. She’s better now, but the first times I took her out, she saw the birds and went into a point. It was a classic point, one leg up, tail straight back. The problem was, I couldn’t get her out of it. I called for her, she wouldn’t move. She must of thought she was in birddog heaven. I thought about planting a flower garden around her and making her a permanent part of the farm, but a quail got her eye and she went chasing and pointing after that.
Her best job tough is being a goat herder. Not your typical herder, but just as effective. Early on in her farming life, she decided to terrorize one of the month old kids. Momma goat was not going to have any part of that, and after a swift butt to the ribs, Sam became a goat herder extraordinaire. Let me explain her technique.
First she’ll come up to the barn with me all excited. If I go into the barn, she’ll wait for me outside. The goats see Sam and start to circle around. Sam see’s the goats coming for her, and remembering the butt, her ears start to lower. The goats circle gets tighter and too close for comfort for Sam, who starts whining and goes cowering under something. When I come out of the barn, I’ll see a circle of goats, but no Sam. I’ll call and she comes out all excited and brave, but doesn’t leave my side.
One day, I thought about how this could help me. I put Sam in the working pen, and told her to stay. Sure enough, the goats came towards her (all except Billy, which is why I had to resort to other techniques described in other stories). Her ears lowered, but they kept coming. Finally she started whining and crawled under the feed trough. The goats circled around the feed trough and I closed the gate with most of the goats inside. I called for Sam, she sprang up and came over to me and I let her out.
I probably won’t win many working dog competitions with my technique, but I know, every Saturday at 8am, I’ll come out that door and Sam the working dog will jump in the truck ready to whine and cower her way through another busy day of goat herding.
posted by Brad Bachelor at 4:06 AM
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