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Bulls stepping over a wire in the intensive grazing system

Farmers use special language to speak to dogs even though they – the dogs – can work things out themselves and understand conversational English. ‘The farmer’ appears to think dogs understand expletives and he uses terms like “Git away back” and “Git in behind” which I suspect are the farming equivalent of legalese which we all know is designed to make us feel out of the loop.

Rex’s dog Kate recently proved that she knows more than she lets on.

This year’s yearling bulls are in a grazing system that relies on hot wires – electrified tapes. To reach fresh grass, the cattle step over a wire which we drop onto the ground and lift up afterwards.

When young bulls are still figuring out the grazing system, mobs sometimes get mixed up and have to be returned to their mobs. All it takes is a power cut, a stray bull or, on one occasion, low-flying ducks.

While the farmer separates and sorts the bulls, I stand in the make-shift ‘gateway’, i.e. a gap in the fence, stepping aside at crucial moments to let bulls through.

During the last reshuffle I was in a mellow frame of mind and everything went so smoothly, the farmer said afterwards, “Well done. We’ll make a cattle handler of you yet.”

Soon afterwards, while he was way down the paddock, I had to coax some inexperienced bulls to make the daring step over the wire. Kate marked me like a rugby defender, moving as I walked forward, trotting ahead if a bull looked reluctant or threatened to head in the wrong direction.

She hadn’t been asked to do this – I don’t know how to ask a dog to do anything as smart as what Kate was doing – and only when she had overseen the last bull safely into its paddock did she gallop off.

Soon afterwards the farmer asked me to go and open a gate so he could move some sheep and that’s when my dog Floss and I found Kate a few hundred yards away chasing birds (a favourite pastime). She was supposed to be helping her boss.

Armed with the thrilling knowledge that I have potential as a cattle handler, I figured I’d try advanced dog handling. Flapping an arm in the direction of Rex, I said, “Kate, get back there and help Rex with some sheep.”

Kate’s bat ears perked up and, after a second’s indecision, she took off at a gallop. I’d take the credit, but you already know Kate’s the one with the brains.

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If car chasing’s your game, allow me to recommend Batley. It’s car chasing heaven or so close to it, you won’t know the difference.

No more standing for hours by your garden gate only to have cars zoom by and leave you in the dust. Batley’s a dead end so your victims start slowly and you get a head start. Plus lots of them tow boats so they’re really slow off the mark.

I especially enjoy jumping round in front of cars and you can only do this if you pounce early. When she’s silly enough to let me off the lead at home in the hope I won’t run away, I duck down the drive when I hear a vehicle start. If she sees me leave I ignore her shrieks and go for it.

And man, can she shriek. One day the farmer, who I only follow when he’s on the quad, stopped dead and said: “That shrieking sound you make. Is it really necessary?

“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes it’s the only way to get Floss to listen.”

Listen! Has she not noticed that I curl up on the ground with my paws over my ears? We dogs have highly sensitive hearing.

I even ignore her when we’re walking on the road. Boy, does that send her into panic mode. The instant she hears a car she’ll call me like she’s some kind of sergeant major and, if I get close, she makes a wild lunge for my collar. Then she gives me the sit down command and holds onto me like I’ll explode. Sometimes she even puts that horrible choke chain on me for a while.

The fact is it’s a drag when she’s around. I can tell she’s annoyed when I chase cars because she yells and yells, “Come here, Floss” like a cracked record.

But here’s the kicker – when I finally run back to her she’s pleased with me cos I’ve just done what I’m told. Geddit? Man, have I got her sussed.

The post van is great to chase because it comes every day. Last year she put a note in the box for the post man warning him about Houdini lambs with no road sense (in my view they’ve got no sense of any kind) and this year she apologised for me even though I heard the mail guy say he likes dogs and doesn’t mind if I chase his truck. But still she gets her knickers in a knot. And she says I don’t listen!

Two weeks later:

You won’t believe this, but cars have started throwing out electric shocks. At least they’re not as bad as the ones I’ve got off fences. Man, have I had some doozies off fences. I guess all up only about half a dozen cars threw off shocks. They hit me on the neck and, frankly, they’ve made me reconsider the car chasing game.

At first I wondered if it was her, but when I’d run back to her after getting a shock she’d pat my head near this great big collar she puts on me sometimes and say, “Good dog”. Nope. Wasn’t her.

Now every time we’re on the road and I hear a car coming I sit down immediately. I get the feeling she’d prefer it if I didn’t sit in the middle of the road, but I’m still a bit fuzzy on that. So, yeah, I’ve given up chasing cars and, if you don’t mind, I’ll retract my earlier invitation. It’s just not worth the hassle.

Signed: Floss

PS: We get on better now I don’t chase cars even though I still go nutso over cars with dogs in them and she still bangs on at me for licking fresh cowpats. The farmer who I only follow etc also yells at me over that. What’s their problem? It’s processed grass . . . just like milk. One little lick and they’d be addicted.

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