National Sheepdog Finals Blog


2013 National Sheepdog Finals - Watch an experienced dog handler team walk calmly to the post, begin their run with complete composure, manage their sheep quietly and competently, and close their work with a soft “that’ll do”. The road to that run ran through struggles and successes and more struggles, humble beginnings where managing stock could seem like trying to control birds in flight. The National Finals has a tradition of excellent blogs showcasing how top handlers train and prepare for the event, using their skills to come down the home stretch tuned for perfection. In recognition of the miles travelled to get to that final lap, of tenacity and hard work and the fact that our travails can be a source of inspiration, education and humor, we are dedicating the 2013 Finals blog to the beginnings and the lessons learned along the way.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Lori Cunnigham - The Injection

Not long after I started keeping my own sheep, I had reason to need to give a sheep an injection.   I went out with a syringe of medication, proud of myself for getting on with the job.    My dog put all the sheep in a pen, which I now know, was way too big.   I was a very inexperienced sheep flipper and it was a very.hot.day.  I chased the ewe around the pen for quite a while  before I finally caught her.   I lifted.  I pulled.  I twisted.   I could not get that sheep to go over.    While I was bent over tugging on every sheep body part I could reach, the ewe reared back and head butted me squarely in the face,  whacking my nose and splitting my lip.    Looking back, I believe that the combination of the heat, exertion and pain in my face  caused me to go temporarily insane.   What had started out as a simple farm chore now became an epic battle of wills and looked something like a grotesque inter-species Greco Roman wrestling match… the ewe bucking around the pen with me attached to her neck,  threats, curses and profanities flowing as freely as the blood dripping from my face.     Suddenly, in the midst of the battle, I saw the ewe’s eyes roll back in her head and she slumped to the ground.    There was little doubt in my mind that I had killed her.     Regardless.    Still cursing triumphantly, I dragged her limp carcass over to the side of the pen, re-gathered my syringe and gave her the injection.    I pumped my arms in the air.    Victory! 
Then I noticed there was a UPS guy standing in my driveway staring at me, his clipboard dangling from his hand.    He didn’t say a word.   He just backed up slowly and got in his truck and drove away.
Shortly thereafter, the sheep came to.    She was fine.   Way better than me.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Patrick Shannahan - The Reluctant Trialer

As a young boy, I was crazy about animals.  All types of animals, but mostly I was crazy about sheep.  My home was a suburban acreage, and although my parents were supportive in some ways, they never could understand my fascination with sheep. None of my relatives were interested in agriculture.  But they liked living in the country and raising their kids in that environment.

So, as a young boy, I purchased sheep to start a registered herd.   I managed that flock without much supervision.  It is not that I didn't have support, but my sheep flock was my project and I was the only individual who really cared about my herd.  My flock continued to grow into my 20’s and 30’s, and developed into a quality-registered flock of Hampshire’s that I started to show on a National level.

Then, on a farm visit to a famous Hampshire flock near Albany, Oregon, in the mid-80's, I saw my first working dog.  Ronald Hogg sent his Border Collie off to gather his yearling ewes.  Ronald was in his 80’s now, and I was shocked at ability of the dog and how it was able to help Ronald. I wasn't quite ready then, but I knew someday I would have a dog that could work like that.

So when I went to look for a pup to start, I used my knowledge about genetics on sheep and asked questions about the parents.   I found a dog that was 1400 miles away, but it had the solid genetics and cost the same price as the local pups.    That pup happened to be Hannah, my first National Champion.

A small group of friends formed when we discovered we were all interested in working dogs.  None of us knew anything about training dogs, and we relied on pooling our resources of limited knowledge to start our pups.

When I had purchased Hannah as a pup, I bought also a trained dog named Toss six months later to help me work.  Toss and I became a good team while I was learning to train Hannah.   My friends all wanted me to go to trials, but I was happy staying home and working on my registered flock of sheep.

Michelle was one of my good friends at the time, and insisted I come to the next trial.   She recently went to her first trial, and had such a great time. Reluctantly I went.  I thought I knew what it would be.  It was nothing like I though it might be.  It wasn't long before I figured out how much I would enjoy seeing the other dogs, people and sheep.  I got entered in PN and Toss won the class.

Needless to say, that was the end of my career with registered sheep.  I was hooked on trials.  Toss, Hannah and I would jump in the pickup and head to any trial I could find.  Didn't matter if I heard the trial was poor, or the sheep were bad, I just couldn't get enough of sheepdog trialing.  We traveled all over the Western US experiencing all that we could in the world of sheep dogs.

I still remember many of those trips with the dogs.   Both Toss and Hannah were such great influences on my career.   They would lay a solid foundation for a successful career. I am fortunate that my friend, Michelle, dragged the reluctant trialer along with her for that first trial. 

This year I am very excited about attending the Nationals.  I have only missed two Nationals since I started, and the Finals in Virginia in 2010 were one of my favorites.   Since it is yet early, I am not sure which dogs I am bringing back, but you can bet there will be no reluctance in attending the premier event of the year.