Haley Howard Hunewill - “Please Mom, give me a Border Collie command”

My Mother and Father had a ranch with sheep, cattle, horses and Border Collies since long before I was born.  From when I was very small, I would go with my mom to move sheep and cattle and train the dogs, it was my favorite thing to do.  In fact, while growing up I thought that every six year old’s favorite thing to do was work the sheep and have my mother say “Away to Me” or “Come Bye” as I enthusiastically ran around the sheep mimicking the moves of Border Collies. 

When I was two years old my mom gave me a Sheltie puppy; Lilac was my best friend and constant companion.  I would “work” Lilac on the sheep, and she would bark and balance the sheep to me.  I could walk around the arena and Lilac would bring the sheep, if I walked through little obstacles...so would the sheep.  There was a small local trial at the fairgrounds and I was all excited to go and show Lilac.  I was seven years old at the time and I knew Lilac and I could win that trial; after all, Lilac was an expert at walking the sheep through obstacles at home!  The day of the show arrived and we were ready, we’d been practicing a lot and I was carrying my mother’s shepherd’s crook which was a couple feet taller than me.  We walked to the chalk ring and I pointed to the sheep fifty feet away and said “Lilac, get the sheep”; instead of running towards the sheep and barking like usual, Lilac stood there...casually looking around, looking at me, and doing NOTHING!  I tried the command again and Lilac wandered away and started sniffing.  My face was beginning to burn.  I hurried towards the sheep saying “get the sheep, get the sheep!”, but nothing worked, Lilac acted like she’d never seen a sheep in her life.  I managed to make it out of the arena and under the grandstands before bursting into tears. 

After the incident with Lilac, my mom let me start working one of her trained older Border Collie bitches named Rudy.  Rudy and I would do small chores around the ranch which I thought was the best thing ever, almost as fun as having my mom give me commands where I could pretend to be the dog.  I had been working Rudy for nearly a year and we were getting pretty handy.  My father was going to run in a local cattledog trial and encouraged me to enter, too.  After much practicing, the big day arrived.  I was not so sure this time after my last “trial” experience, but things had been going very well at home.  I sent Rudy on the twenty five yard outrun and she took off immediately.  So far so good.  Rudy made the outrun in no time; however, she came to the fence, made an abrupt turn to balance the cattle to the fence and laid down.  And would not move not matter what I said.  I walked my horse down to the cattle and all Rudy would do was balance the cattle to the fence.  “TIME”

When I was ten my father gave me my first Border Collie of my own, a red puppy named Scarlet.  Scarlet turned out to be the toughest, most hot headed, weak and hard biting dog I’ve ever had.  Even though I couldn’t teach Scarlet very well, she taught me many things...how to suture up a sheep she’d ripped open, how to make a muzzle out of a plastic cup, how to wait patiently while my Father could work her perfectly and she’d be a Holy terror with me, how to help fix a friend’s fence that Scarlet chased a heifer through...and most of all she taught me how to handle a tough dog and carefully read “dog body language” that would signal an explosion.  I obviously hadn’t had enough humiliation because I even tried to trial Scarlet a couple of times in Novice.  The first one wasn’t terrible, but each time got worse until I decided enough was enough when Scarlet chased one sheep through a fence and nearly over the Border Collies In Action booth...that was too much Border Collie action for me. 

After having toiled with Scarlet for four years, I got my next puppy, Diona, when I was fourteen.  Diona was the most amazing dog I’d ever had, not only did she obey me, she WANTED to obey me.  She wasn’t the most natural youngster, but she was so willing that she would try to learn anything I showed her.  Being young and home schooled with lots of time on my hands, I was happy to spend hours training Diona on and off the sheep.  Even now looking back, after training dozens of dogs, Diona truly was unique in how willing and obedient she was.  Surprisingly after having had many bad experiences trying to “trial” Lilac, Rudy and Scarlet, when Diona became trained enough, I was very excited to give it another try.  Some trialing friends told me I should run Diona in “Nursery”, that she was the right age and she could do well.  I wasn’t sure what class that was, but took their word and started off in Nursery.  Even though for the first several trials Diona seemed to think that the sheep were at the fetch gates, we got around the course and I was always on cloud nine afterwards with how well Diona listened and tried for me.  After a few trials, we qualified for the National Nursery Finals and I was undecided about entering.  It was 2001 and I was only seventeen at the time and quite intimidated, I would be competing against the best handlers and dogs from across the country.  My friend, Ray Coapman, gave me a book on competition training for athletes (a lot of mental training) and wrote a little note that said “even though all the best handlers will be at the Nursery Finals, they will all have young dogs, too, and it will be a level playing field”.  I studied that book endlessly and practiced and practiced with Diona to get ready.  I was terribly nervous to compete in the National Finals, I could barely utter “Away” to send Diona on the outrun.  Luckily Diona being calm and steady as she was, was not upset by my extreme nervousness.  We had a little trouble here and there and I didn’t think we’d place very high, I was surprised to finish fifth in the first go round.  Anyone who was at the 2001 National Finals in Klamath Falls Oregon would remember the wind and dust of that terrible drought year, it was quite tremendous.  When my second run rolled around the wind was whipping in my face, as we walked to the post, and the dust was moving rapidly across the field.  I sent Diona...it seemed to take ages for her to get behind the sheep, I could have counted my heartbeats.  I took a deep breath and blew the loudest stop whistle I could manage into the wind. She stopped right way.  All the way around the course, even though I could hardly see sometimes due to the dust in my eyes, Diona never missed a beat.  We ended up winning the second go round.  When everyone had run and the trial was done, I ventured over to the score board, I hadn’t looked all day.  I kept adding and re-adding...it looked like I was ahead by one point.  When it was announced that Diona and I had won the Nursery Finals, I was in shock - for days. 

After winning the Nursery Finals, Diona and I went on to compete in Open, eventually winning some (shedding proved to be very challenging for me) to get enough points to run in the Regional and National Finals a few times.  We won the Regional Finals once and were Reserve twice and ran in the Final day of the National Finals a couple of times.  We also qualified to compete in the 2005 World Sheepdog Trial, however Diona became quite sick at the last minute and I couldn’t take her overseas.  By then I had some other dogs, too, that I was training and trialing; I especially enjoy training dogs and learning to work with all types.  I won the 2003 National Cattledog Finals with my dog, Cap, and in 2006 I won the National Nursery Finals with, Ross, after having won both go rounds.  I learned to judge some years ago and enjoy traveling to judge trials and feel it is a small way to give back to the sport I love so much.  I am very fortunate to have been able to follow my love of training and working with dogs my whole life.  Every day I look forward to working with my dogs, client’s dogs and helping people get started with their own dogs.  What is it they say...”If you love your work, you never work a day in your life”.

Werner Reitboeck - Kip

One day I arrived home with 22 ewe lambs. As I lowered the ramp of the trailer they jumped out with great joy and raced into the pasture, where, after a few minutes of exploration, they settled down. They ate lustily of the delicate spring growth of grasses and legumes.

A few days later I was horrified to see one of the little lambs limping. I walked up to it carefully, talking soothingly. Any time I came within a certain distance the lamb just walked quietly away. I decided to try a new method: I would approach the lamb at a crooked angle, like a plane flying in crosswinds, never looking directly at the lamb, gently humming some idiotic tune. Then, at the last minute, I tried to grab it unawares, jumping for it like some soccer super-goalie. Alas the lamb and its friends still managed to evade me easily. This however enabled me to check out their droppings from extremely close range.

I thought I would be able to corner the limping lamb in the barn. So I decided to bring all the lambs into the barn. There I would be able to separate the lame animal and check its feet. I was convinced that it suffered from footrot. Any book I had read seemed to attribute any lameness to that problem. I was further convinced that within a day or two,  if not treated properly, my whole flock would be suffering from this infection. So out came a bucket of feed and I enticed them by shaking the bucket ... they gave me a look or two but that was about it.  Then I tried to talk to them by calling baaaaa, baaaa or maaaa, maaaaa changing my pitch from an enticing, deep sexy ram call to an “'I’m in trouble" high lamb-call with everything in between. That resulted in a few more looks or rather stares, some of which seemed to be full of concern and worry but no mad rush to the barn. (However since that day it seems that my neighbors look at me quite oddly at times and they go out of their way to explain the simplest things in kind of baby language). If anything the lambs seemed to be etching gently away from me. Then I remembered that in some authoritative book I read it said that sheep have Latin education and would come rushing if called with the magical word "ovine." "Ovine, ... oviiiiiiine, oviiiiiine." My throat started hurting and I was near despair. All the lambs were happily munching on grass and trefoil. It seemed to me that by now they had decided to ignore that maniac by the barn gate. Back I went to the house for reinforcements. Kate, my wife, quite willingly put on her rubber boots, our two months old son Anthony went into a sling around her front and out we went. Once more we tried to entice our lambs into the barn. As this did not succeed we then tried to herd them in. We kept racing after them, dashing in here or there; we tried to sneak up on them to herd them quietly and kind of push them towards the barn alas in the last moment they always, with a few hops, got out of reach. Eventually Anthony woke up and let us know of his displeasure ... that at least seemed to get the lambs' attentions. I suggested to Kate she might want to drive the sheep now with the help of Anthony. The look I received for that idea told me I should plan a different offensive. Eventually, with the help of neighbors, we did get the lambs into the barn. It only took six of us to herd 22 lambs.

 I caught the lame lamb but I could find nothing that in any way looked like the descriptions of footrot in my book on sheep health. As I sat in the house afterwards, still huffing and puffing I realized that there must be a simpler way to handle sheep.  I had read about herding dogs and decided to look into the matter more closely. I remembered that in one sheep magazine I had seen an advertisement for a book to train herding dogs. I rummaged through stacks of papers in my"office" until at last I found that publication. There were four books advertised: the cheapest probably would be not very good, on the other hand the dearest was close to$ 50.00 ... so I ordered one in the middle. Next day, as luck would have it, I came across a notice advertising border collies for sale. After discussing it with Kate I phoned the number advertised and arranged to look at the pups that very afternoon.

I was shown into a barn and there in a horsestall were seven black and white bundles of energy.

There are many ways to choose a pup. In the end it comes down to personal preference. After a cursory glance at me the pups went back to their preoccupation in trying to catch some of the hens that were also housed in the barn, the only one that I could catch was a little tri-coloured male. He had decided that grabbing my shoelaces was as much fun as trying to catch one of these elusive hens.

Over the next few months Kip followed me around wherever I went, he quickly and without effort seemed to learn his "down," and "come." When he was about seven months old I bought a few more ewes. To prevent any spread of possible disease I kept them apart from the rest of the flock, for a month or so they were in a separate pasture.

After they had settled in for a few days I brought them a little grain that I placed into a tub in the middle of the pasture. Then I fetched Kip. I laid him down about thirty yards from the ewes who did not even notice us thanks to the grain in front of them. I started the first training session with Kip. Day after day we went back with those ewes and worked them. I diligently read up on how to train but basically Kip's instinct needed just a touch of correction here and there. He had to learn what I wanted of him, he had to learn my commands. He quickly mastered the fetch which meant that from then on he would help me with the main flock. I now could bring the flock into the barn within minutes. I stood by the barn door and Kip fetched the sheep and their lambs to me. I had to stand aside to let then pass by me into the barn.

Pretty soon Kip helped me at all phases of my work with the sheep. He had an uncanny sense that made him realize what I wanted of him. All he really knew was to fetch the sheep but that was enough to make it possible for me to look after my livestock efficiently. Whenever I was working outside he would be loose to follow me around, give me advice on any number of things from carpentry to baling hay. That August somebody told me that not too far from our farm there was a sheepdog trial. So our whole family. Kip included, jammed into the car and went to have a look. There were a few dogs in the Novice class and looking at it I thought that Kip could do this too. So we asked if we could enter the following day and so that Sunday morning I proudly went to the post with Kip. But just before the trial a red van drove up and a murmur went through the crowd: Amanda had arrived.

As I stood by the post and released  Kip he rushed up towards the sheep but, ignoring them, he first went up to the dog that was lying not too far from them. That dog ignored him so Kip first tried to find out if that dog had any homosexual tendencies, when he still was ignored – he lifted his leg. This at least got a reaction, not so much from the dog but from his handler who started rushing at Kip, brandishing her crook, blond hair flying – an angry Viking warrior princess if I ever saw one. To this day I am easily intimidated by Amanda.

 Kip on the other hand decided that Bart, which was the setout dog, was not worth his attention and started to work the sheep. We did finish the course, I think there were only 6 or 7 dogs in that class and we even got a yellow ribbon. Both of us were now efficiently hooked!