THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 15, 1995 TAG: 9510130229
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Random Rambles
SOURCE: Tony Stein
LENGTH: Medium: 83 lines
Don't tell anyone, but I have made a startling discovery. Sheep dogs are actually dumb. It's the sheep who are highly trained.
Hey, just kidding. Don't detour Lassie to bite my butt before she comes home. Truth to tell, I have been watching a sheep dog named Donna Sue, and she is so smart that she ought to be in Congress instead of some of the nincompoops there now.
You can watch sheep dogs work, too, if you go today to Gum Tree Farm at 1900 Pocaty Road. They're having an open house with all kinds of agricultural doings, including a sheep dog competition. Admission to the competition is $2 for adults with the proceeds going to support the therapeutic riding program called Equi-Kids.
Donna Sue belongs to Tom and Robin Freeman, owners of the farm. But she used to belong to Jim Varnon, a nationally known sheep dog trainer. He and the Freemans met a few years back, and when Jim had some health problems he left Donna Sue at Gum Tree.
To watch her work is to see a brisk bundle of intelligence, concentration and dedication in action. There she goes, circling the sheep at a run, body low to the ground, ready to change directions instantly. Here she comes, slowly, slowly approaching the sheep so as not to scare them.
But now a stray breaks away. Donna Sue stands firm, staring the stray into submission with the stern, unwavering glare that trainers call ``The Eye.'' It's the same expression that wilts the bad guys when Clint Eastwood says ``Go ahead. Make my day.'' Sheepishly (what else?) the stray rejoins the herd.
And now the sheep are penned and Donna Sue's job is done. She trots into the barn and plops into a barrel of water as enthusiastically as a kid belly-plopping at the traditional Ole Swimmin' Hole. ``That's the way the dogs are trained to cool off,'' Tom says.
Donna Sue is a border collie, bred over centuries for those qualities that make them masters in the field. With Tom, she responds to voice signals. If Tom tells her, ``Com bye,'' it means to go left around the sheep. If he says, ``Way to me,'' she goes to the right. ``Walk up'' means to approach the sheep and ``easy'' means to go slow so she doesn't spook them. When Tom says ``Stand,'' she becomes a black-and-white statue.
She'll also answer to signals on a thin metal whistle. ``Tweet, tweet'' sends her left. A long ``tweet'' sends her right. Five short tweets means to walk up and a high-low sound means ``Easy.'' She'll stop when she hears a trilling note.
The best sheep dogs have ``The Eye,'' Tom says, and Donna Sue comes from championship stock. But at 10 years old, she's been a working dog all her life, not a show dog. That's why she was entered in the novice class at the Virginia State Fair just concluded. She won a blue ribbon, and Tom won a plaque as ``most promising'' novice handler.
The sheep dog competition, which started yesterday, asks dogs and handlers to move the sheep over a set course in a set pattern. The judge wants to see if the dog works smoothly with a minimum of wasted motion and straggling sheep. Is there good communication between dog and handler? Does the dog hold the sheep firmly in place at the end of the trial?
A perfect performance scores 100 points. Sometimes, though, more than one dog scores that well. Then, says Tom, an experienced judge has to make the call based on the qualities that only an expert eye can discern. Jim Varnon is the judge this weekend, so the expert eye is certainly available.
At 10, Donna Sue is no youngster, but I have seen 13-year-olds work sheep with startling energy and skill. Donna herself will be an active farm dog as long as she is physically able, Tom says. Sad to say, when veteran sheep dogs get so old and arthritic that it's physically painful for them to work, their instincts overcome the pain and they stand at the fence and whine to be turned loose on the sheep.
The weekend competition, sponsored by Southern States, may see as many as 75 dogs trying to round up prize money that might go as high as a couple of thousand dollars. You can get information about the sheep dog trials and the open house by calling 421-9700. But I can tell you this myself: Watching a good sheep dog work is an impressive display of the bond possible between human and animal.
There is something deeper, too, that Jim Varnon once told me about. Border collies fear loud noises like gunfire, but during the Falkland Island war, Varnon saw TV footage of border collies faithfully herding sheep under a naval barrage. Intelligence and skill and dedication and all the heart in the world. What a combination. by CNB