Pastoral Ponderings:
A Shepherd's Blog

Abbey Road

“Guess who’s here?” Lance grinned as he walked in. He had spent the morning checking a nearly inaccessible fence line that borders our large winter pasture where our pregnant herd was grazing. I had barely time to hazard that guess when Lance blurted out, “Abbey’s back! She was sitting in front of my shop waiting for me.” Abbey had left at the end of June after entertaining Crystal’s friends during my daughter’s 25th birthday party. Today was New Year’s Day. Lance thought she had passed away; I thought she had found a partner. We were both wrong. Abbey was a wild Canadian Goose.

Two years ago Lance and I were interrupted during afternoon chores by a sudden outburst overhead. Honking loudly, this crazy bird began to circle us and decided to land awkwardly right in the midst of us and a group of sheep. Our ponds had lured other waterfowl but this goose had decidedly missed its aquatic mark. As we moved, off she flew, circled overhead and landed again in front of us. She cackled under her breath as she waddled quickly alongside us. Our working canines challenged the honker’s presence although we discouraged them from chasing her off. Abbey had it under control; she could pinch and fly at the same time.

It is indeed a balancing act to maintain peace among the various personalities, just like any family. Abbey had fit well into the sheep operation. She not only accompanied us during chores, she would guard as she surveyed the pastures below the pond. If anything was amiss, her honk sent the two Maremma guard dogs off in pursuit with Abbey following close behind. But much had changed during the wild goose’s six month hiatus. “It’s a good omen, Gay.” Lance declared. Lance can get spiritual at the oddest times. Our scales had recently tipped and were unnervingly out of whack. I, too, would pray for a good luck charm.

Coyotes had been regularly killing our young, pregnant ewes for the last six weeks. Granted, the dirt was moist under the perimeter electric fences so digging was quick and easy for the wily predator. Mountain lion, bobcat, deer, rabbit and wild turkey abound in the creek canyons so we did our best to compromise and insure a delicate balance between the domestic and the wild. We would leave untamed and unfenced several acres in the depths of the verdant canyons. It is difficult terrain to manage.

We have used livestock protection dogs for nearly twenty years. Thelma and Louise are our three year-old Maremmas and have had a flawless record. Up until now. Two months prior, Lance had surprised me with a birthday gift. Returning from a delivery, he asked me to retrieve his credit card that had slipped between his console and car seat. I peeked underneath the seat springs and two little eyes were focused on me. Eliza was our new two month-old Border Collie pup. Maggie, our last matronly Border Collie, had passed away in late spring. It takes time to absorb the loss of so dear a partner, but the sheep learn quickly that the shepherd’s commands are met with no response. It was time for a new herd dog.

Our frustration with the carnage is funneled furiously into preventing further attacks. The winter forage has been preserved for this herd and containing the sheep in confinement would be expensive and counter-productive. The physical labor of ranching can be a boon during difficult times since the physical exhaustion enhances rational thought. The emotional burden of losing prime breeding stock senselessly can invoke an irrational response, especially toward one another! What had caused the mature guard dogs to suddenly alter their behavior?

Nothing had changed except the introduction of Eliza into the ranch family. It is a precarious transition since Thelma and Louise must be taught that the pup is not a threat to the sheep. They now accept her, but are they jealous?

It is always presumptuous to second-guess nature. We are often reminded of our retired ditch tender, Nevada County native Frank Butler, who would comment that, “Only fools and newcomers” try to predict the weather. We know we aren’t the latter and we pray that we aren’t the former. Abbey’s arrival has changed the dynamics once again. Thelma and Louise are delighted to watch the goose chase Eliza away from Lance’s workshop. All is fair, I suppose, since Eliza has been chasing a wild black cat, a superlative mouser that took two years to befriend. Abbey’s reunion is no guarantee of a return to equilibrium. What is assured is the honker’s coveted spot in front of Lance’s shop on Sunday mornings when Beatles’ tunes drift unfailingly around a few hours of respite from tests and reflection upon talismans.

copyright@2010.
Lance and Gay Columbel. All rights reserved.