Dogs, dogs, dogs…

 

Our sheepdogs have brand new kennels thanks to my dear Mum, who was so shocked at them being chained up during her last visit that she deemed a ‘dog house’ a worthwhile investment for their overall happiness and wellbeing. Ours is fairly basic, although you can apparently opt for anti-chew or even bed warmers if you have a spare £thousand or so to spend. It’s a far cry from a chain in a draughty byre, anyway, so our working dogs are quite spoilt really. Having said this, I don’t think Jock – Uncle Hamish’s old dog – is too happy, as he can no longer get to (and eat) the chickens, a favourite pastime of his.

Swanky new 'dog house'

The downside of having kennels is that the other farmers are calling us toffs, a label probably not helped by our decision to buy yet another Labrador. Named Jura – after the whisky and Isle – the idea is that he will be Coco’s stud dog in a few years’ time. He’s already trying to ‘have his way’ with her, which I suppose is a good sign although a little worrying given his age (3.5 months). Having said all this, he does look like a little girl and is such a mummy’s boy; he hates going outside and loves nothing better than a cuddle on the sofa. Hopefully he’ll man up in due course.

Jura



Jura and Coco

Anyway, I digress. We spent an interesting morning trying to build these kennels, a task made especially difficult given the absence of diagrams/ instructions. Instead we were faced with a load of panels to be assembled using a ‘build by numbers’ method, which is far simpler in theory than in practice. Sure enough, after 3 hours trying to project manage the process, I let the boys get on with it and made the tea, something I know I’m good at.

Actually, since I last posted – I know, I know, almost 3 months ago – we have bought yet another working dog. His name is Joe, and we got him from a sheepdog trainer on the East Coast. Joe belonged to a family as a pet and was, by all accounts, trashing the place, probably because he was bored. Thus the family decided he needed a purpose and so shipped him off to sheepdog training classes. In the end they decided they couldn’t handle him after all, but their loss was our gain, as we bought him for puppy prices, not the ££££ you’d usually pay for a part-trained sheepdog. He’s a fantastic little worker, and a brilliant ally for Fraser on the hill. No excuses for not getting those sheep in, Fraser! We now have six dogs – Jock, Max, Chris, Joe, Coco and Jura – which some would say is ridiculous, but at least they keep us busy, and happy (when they’re not tearing off after another farmer’s sheep, that is).

Joe

Sticking with the dog theme, we entered Coco last minute into a dog show on Saturday. I was too embarrassed to lead her around the ring and do that silly trotting business, and so made Fraser do it, which was pretty hilarious. There were about 15 dogs in her category (gun dogs) and she was by far the most beautiful (perhaps I’m biased). There was a couple who had clearly dragged their Labs to these things before as they knew all the tricks, using treats to lift the dog’s head, etc, etc, and one of theirs came first which was a travesty in my mind, because Coco should’ve got it. In the end she got third, and a swanky yellow rosette! Oh well, perhaps I have found my calling – doggy pageant mummy? I think there might be something in it…
   

Proud parents - Coco's first rosette!!