Episode 12 - A Close Shave

I must say that Pat the dog seems a bit on edge. He's a pretty active chap, always running here and there, but lately he seems to be more restless than usual. It started after Freddy Faba kicked that winning goal for the Crop Cannibals. Pat's congratulatory licks had Freddy dripping from head to toe, and wondering whether being a hero is all it's cracked up to be. Pat hasn't stopped since then. He runs to and fro muttering poems like. "A hero's the thing to be, woof, woof. Freddy has done it, it's my turn now, a hero's life for me, woof woof."

"Billie, I want to be a hero, prove my worth on the farm. But I might not get the chance." Pat panted as he bounded in circles around me.

"Slow down Pat, you're making me dizzy" I replied. "SIT down and we can talk it over." The SIT command did the trick, and Pat sat, albeit with quivering muscles as he strained to control himself.

"What worries me, Billie is a rumour I've heard on the farm dog grapevine. Something about low wool prices, and farmers getting rid of sheep. You see shearing's the best time of year for a sheep dog-hero. Dog-heroes can impress everyone with their cool control of hundreds of sheep at a time. In New Zealand they even make TV stars out of us, and you know how popular that sheep-pig became! Controlling sheep is a very heroic thing!" He stopped to draw breath, gave a little shudder and continued.

"What if the Jones give up on wool? What if I never get to direct flocks and flocks of flighty sheep into the shearing pens again? Will the Jones still want me? What if the dog grapevine doesn't carry stories about how I managed that difficult ewe so sensitively? How will I get any girl dogs interested in me? Billie, without sheep my life could be grim." Pat sighed in despair.

I left Pat and walked over to the shearing sheds to see what was up. "Click, click, click" came the sound of shears inside the shed. "Hey Jason, sweep up the daggy bits on this floor. Whew! At this rate, we'll get through the mob this week."

Yay! Those are the sounds of the Jones family and their shearers. Eunice Ewe and all the woolly sheep coming in, oiled shearing combs buzzing, the fleece spread out in one piece, shearers working hard and fast, the daggy bits of wool being swept, and the amazing sight of bright white naked sheep sliding down the chute to the pen outside.

Pat bounded up to me with a look of relief and satisfaction on his face. "I love geting these sheep lined up for their hair-cuts!" he said. "And this wonderful shearing shed atmosphere!" It's really exciting for all of us - but will it happen next year? Now that's another story...