June

On June 1, I wrote in my journal, "what will I do with this summer?"

Clearly, what I have not been doing this summer, is blogging.  What  I have been doing, is trying to stay as mindful as I can and live every day. Having some troubles with my dog (and being on the receiving end of some sources of unrequested input) made me a little sensitive to writing publicly about our sheepdog work, so either consciously or unconsciously I took a blogging vacation.

On June 6th, I wrote, "there's nothing better than June... the whole summer beckons, and I want to savor each day and not suddenly find myself at the Fourth of July (or how about the 13th of August!) not remembering the sweet days of June." Sometimes, things are satisfying but not exciting, like getting hay delivered to feed the sheep on a hot day. The pleasant things do not go unnoticed, even if somewhat mundane.

Some of the boys on hay delivery day, on the outside looking in

Coal found a way to cool off during June's heat waves - one day went up to 105!

Cosmo on hay delivery day: I really want to bark at that guy with the big truck.

 

Spot proving that we indeed did get hay delivered

And sometimes, the obstacles are the path. I don't know where I got that quote but it is one of the things I wrote down.

When I am volunteering at a sheepdog trial, I can't count how many times one of the trial organizers has said, "just take the quad." I would always shuffle and say, I "don't do quads". And I would walk. Walking is good for me, up to a point. I always felt so unprepared because I did not know how to drive a quad. I did not grow up with motorcycles or quads. It seems like everybody in the sheepdog world now lives on a quad. And now thanks to my enabling friends, I have started driving a quad, which granted was a fancy one with all the bells and whistles. But look, here I am, driving a quad and all three dogs are on the back because we were fixing to cross a paved road before getting back to the private road. Yippee, for me. So empowering. And yes that's my winter rain parka in June. Humboldt County. 

Smiling ear to ear, I drove a quad. Photo by Marnie N.

I also do not do cows. My dogs do not do cows. When a friend says to you, "just go back to that barn lot and sort off the XXXX sheep, you'll know which ones they are, there are about twelve of them mixed in with the others (about sixty), and you can take them out there and work your dogs, ok?  Oh and there are a couple of calves in there too." Uh huh. More empowering and enabling girlfriends, providing obstacles that become the path. Ryme was a superstar and we got this sort of sheep away from cows accomplished. Sorry, no papparazzi. :-) Friends are amazing.

And... Spot and some of the other dogs, including Gloria's dogs, in this picture that she took when we went back to Little Horse Mountain.

There is more to say, but that's enough for now.