I was sitting at the computer, nursing, surfing facebook.
“There’s someone here!” the children shouted.
I looked up to see our neighbor at the door. I knew it couldn’t be good. Not many people just drop in, but especially not this late in the evening. I didn’t really have time to think, though, because the door was already open.
“I just hit your white dog.”
And I was stunned. The only thing I could even think to say was, “He’s not even supposed to be out.”
And he wasn’t . . . supposed to be out, that is. But Flee’s a good livestock guardian, patrolling his pasture, looking over his animals and making sure everyone makes it home safely. That’s why he chases cars. And from his side of the pasture, it is a beautiful sight to see him at a full run, escorting the car past his domain and standing at the end of the fenceline like a king as he watches the car travel on down the road. Another threat averted.
But that’s only when he’s on his side of the fence and I know no harm can come to him. That’s also why I don’t intentionally let him out of the pasture.
But he also likes to look over his mismatched flock of animals. He’s particularly fond of the cattle. You see, we got him after our little calf was attacked by a coyote and we were determined not to have that happen again. He was raised alongside those calves. He romped with them, watched over them and led them to safety any time danger was near. He is happiest when his herd is together and he can look over them all.
In return, they look to him for safety. When he barks, they come and stand near him. When he naps in the sun, they graze and play. And when it was time for them to have their own calves, they just looked on as he helped clean their newborn babes.
And at milking time, as we lead the cows out of the barn to tie them in the stanchion, Flee likes to follow. He likes to lay down by the alfalfa and just watch his girls and their calves. He likes to make sure the shepherds don’t get too close because there is absolutely no reason in his mind that they should ever give his girls that eye.
But then there’s the car chasing.
And tonight, my daughter was milking. And tonight, my daughter didn’t think about it.
So I walked out to the road with the neighbor as she told me he came out of nowhere. That she hit him pretty hard. That he ran off into the corn field.
And I wasn’t upset with her. I was thankful. We lost Timmy to this road and the driver never even slowed down. But there was no sign of Flee and I could only hope that whatever his injuries were, he could make it home so that we could take care of him and so that he could be comforted amongst his people and his herd.
I walked down to the barn because if he came home, that would be where he’d head. The animals were all out of sorts. The sheep were bleating. The cattle were incessant with their mooing and I could hear them pacing in the barn. The horses were whinnying over and over. Candy in the stanchion lifted her head from her bucket of grain and was rocking against the sides as she turned to look at me when I walked in to tell my daughter what had happened.
“Really? I just saw him and he seemed fine.”
“It just happened. They said he ran off into the corn field. They drove up the road a little to see if they could see him.”
“No. I just saw him. I heard the car and he took off, but just like two minutes ago he ran through again. He was moving just fine. He was fast.”
I was confused. Had she seen him tearing off after the car? Or had she seen him coming home, scared but without serious injury?
So I walked around the property calling him and listened as all of our livestock called for him as well. But there was nothing. Flee isn’t like our other dogs. He was raised with cattle. They are his focus and his job. He knows us. He knows his name. But he comes when he wants. Even when he isn’t scared and in pain.
And a few minutes later, he appeared in the milking barn. Our steer returned to his feed. Candy relaxed and settled into chewing her cud. And as I ran my hands along his sides, back and legs, looking for any sign of pain, I noticed how quiet everything had suddenly become.
Flee was home. The guardian was safe. And everyone relaxed.