A real live cow dog

A real live cow dog

February 2, 2002

Most ranchers need someone they can talk to and share their workload. My wife got a dog for me ... and she says it was the best trade she ever made! The problem is that while some breeds of canines make better cow dogs than others, most all the great cow dogs I’ve come across made miserable companions when they weren’t working. For example, take my Kelpie. Please, I’m begging you, please take Aussie. She’ s wound tighter than a $10 pocket watch and about as reliable.

In attempting to find mates that are both good listeners and willing workers, cattlemen have tried to make cow dogs out of breeds that were originally bred for other purposes. A dachshund and a German shepherd are two that come to mind. Another case in point is my friend Bob, who attempted to make a cow dog out of a Labrador retriever. It seems that Bob and his lab became inseparable, the best of friends. One day Bob and his crew were loading steers into the belly of a cattle trailer and the trucker was standing at the top of the loading chute, counting the steers as they entered. When they had finished loading, the trucker announced, "That's 96 head."

"That's funny," said Bob, "we only had 95 steers." He shrugged his head, considered himself lucky for having another steer to sell, called for his dog and started to head for the house. Much to his dismay he could not find his trusty lab. He called for the dog and searched high and low. Oh, where oh where had Bob’s big dog gone?

Then an unthinkable idea struck Bob. "How many steers did you say you loaded?" he asked the trucker.

"96 head," the trucker replied.

"Did one of them look a little funny to you?"

"Yeah. Now that you mention it there was one that was a little bigger than the rest," replied the trucker.

"Was he black?" asked Bob in an increasingly agitated condition.

"They were all black," answered the trucker who was rapidly tiring of being quizzed by Bob in a less-than-respectful manner.

About that time a bark emanated deep from deep inside the cattle trailer.

"Oh, my God," said Bob as he realized his worst fear was true. They had loaded the black Labrador with the rest of the cattle. The dog had been so intent on his job of pushing the cattle up the loading chute that he had followed them right in. Either that or he was tired of ranch life and wanted to go to town, so he hitched a ride.

By now Bob was hysterical, running around and around the truck begging his beloved dog to remain calm, as the crew quickly began unloading the steers in an attempt to retrieve the retriever. Bob was a nervous wreck by the time the lab emerged, the last one off the bus.

Miraculously, the black lab unloaded unscathed from the belly of the trailer, much like Jonah when he escaped from the belly of the whale. In fact, the black lab looked no worse for wear, although he was covered in recycled hay and did have a rather cowy smell about him, if you get my drift.

Bob was so glad to see his faithful companion alive and well that the two ran to each other, like the beach scene in the movie "10" when Bo Derek ran to Dudley Moore and embraced. The dog, in his excitement, jumped up on Bob and licked his face. There is nothing friendlier than a dog covered with manure, I’m told.

I wish I could say that there was a happy ending to this true story. Unfortunately Bob’ s dog died a couple months later from eating something he shouldn't have. Bob was stricken with grief for a very long time, about the same length of time, I’m told by his wife, that it took to get the paw-print stains out of his clothes.

I understand now that Bob has himself a new cow dog — a basset hound, I believe.