The STAFF, Oma and I went to see the Sheepdog Trials at Longshaw estate. I had never seen this before, and it all looked quite exciting. I thought the dogs were very naughty, because you are not allowed to chase sheep, don'tcherknow, and there was a guy with a big stick in the field who whistled the dog madly. I thought he was going to tell the dog off. But no. They seemed to be chasing sheep together.
The STAFF explained to me that it was all like an elaborate game and that the dog had to lift four sheep in a long outrun, drive them through a gate, go a lift some more sheep, and blablabla. I stopped listening. I was suddenly VERY worried that they had some crazy ideas of me doing something similar. Now. In front of all these people. I tried to hide under one of the STAFF, just in case.
One of the dogs ran out in the middle of working with a nice young girl with the big stick. It was embarrassing. I felt very sorry for her. She had stroked me earlier and called me handsome, so I had rather wanted her to win.
After that I rather lost interest. Plus, the STAFF still didn't get me the lamb I had asked for. And their explanation why it was ok for these dogs to chase sheep but not for me was rather unsatisfactory. Maybe if they got a whistle and a big stick we could chase sheep together, too. I'll put it to them next time the opportunity arises.Speaking of sticks. I don't mind saying that the highlight of the weekend was the enormous stick I dragged out of the river. I had quite an audience and the STAFF were basking in reflected glory. It was simply wonderful!
1 year ago