The visit was short lived. Chris was busy at work in the barn and Lisa was on the phone. We said our farewells and made our way back through their property towards our own. Along the way we noticed that the sheep were out in the field we were crossing. The dogs noticed them, too.
At first there was no problem, the dogs would simply pause, look, sniff, and then continue on our way home. Perhaps they hadn't yet realized what had tickled their spidey senses. Eventually though, they discovered that there was a whole flock of live sheep right there in the field. The yelping and jumping turned on like a light switch. The dogs behaved admirably, listening to our urgent commands to heel and continue on our way off our neighbour's property.
Shaky finally cracked under the temptation. He took off toward the flock, ignoring our shouts for obedience. The sheep soon noticed that there was a carnivore barreling at them and panicked. It was quite a sight: sixty sheep ran in unison at a speed I never thought sheep could achieve. Shaky had absolutely no plan for the sheep, he just chased them. It was all herding instinct.
Before long, the resident donkeys -- a pair of farm animals whose job it is to guard the sheep against wild predators -- sprung to the defense of the sheep. The donkeys chased after Shakey, who chased after the sheep. Donkeys are fast. And big. Shaky noticed the donkeys once they began to close the gap between him and the sheep. After a moment of careful consideration, Shaky decided that he did not wish to be trampled to death by a charging donkey. His interest in the sheep quickly waned.
I had left Greta and Max at the edge of the pasture in a pathetic attempt to fetch Shaky. (Hailey remained with Greta and Max -- a stellar display of obedience for a two-year-old border collie mutt, given that not even Shaky could resist the call of the sheep.) It was while I was vainly trying to catch my dog that he abandoned the sheep and began heading back up the path toward me. We headed toward each other -- Shaky, in a bit of a rush to save his hide from the donkeys; me, in a bit of a rush to grab his collar and secure him.
The donkeys, however, were not yet satisfied. They wanted justice. They left the sheep (who were now safe) and continued their pursuit of the interloper.
I stopped running and stood there. Shaky casually glanced over his shoulder to see two angry donkeys charging behind him at maximum warp. The whites of Shaky's eyes became clearly visible at that moment. He picked up a considerable amount of speed and continued on his course down the path... directly at me. As he neared, the expression on his face was clear as day: "Dude," it said to me, "I don't know what's going on, but that donkey behind me is crazy!"
It dawned on me at that time that I was in the line of fire. I took a step or two off the walking trail, hoping to stand innocently in the bushes as the chase roared past. Shaky, however, slowed to a walk, trotted right up to me, then stood obediently at my side. This with donkeys in pursuit. I was in trouble.
Thankfully, the donkeys began to slow as they approached us. They stopped altogether not ten feet from where I stood, still as a statue, with Shaky panting madly beside me. The donkeys began to mill around in the grass, grazing, as if they weren't involved in a high-speed chase not five seconds past.
Not one to look a gift donkey in the mouth, I grabbed Shaky's collar and began a calm, measured walk back to Greta, Max, and Hailey. The donkeys left us alone at that point, apparently satisfied that their job was done. Shaky and I rejoined the rest of our family and continued on our merry way.
Next time we visit our neighbours, we'll bring leashes.
No comments:
Post a Comment