"My Mamma Told Me..."

I was born one of five squirmy black and white puppies to border collie parents who came from a long line of working dogs. We lived in a comfy farm home with plenty of places to romp and play. 

(Picture Courtesy of G. Larsen) 

Besides just the warm fuzzy memories of puppy hood and being safe, I remember very little of my parents, my brothers and my sisters. But I do remember my dog mom telling me, "Son, love your humans and don't talk to strangers." 

Sometimes I wish I had heeded that advice earlier in my life. I would have saved myself a lot of grief. But no matter how bad things seemed then, good came out of them and fortunately, I lived to tell about it. Some pups aren't so lucky.

I remember my two brothers and two sisters romping with me in a pen off the side of a barn. The smells were heavenly and my curiosity always taunted me to find a way to learn more about those mysterious animals that I could smell and hear, but could never see. I'd stand on my back feet and try to peer over the wood plank fence that surrounded our yard. Oh, if I were only a few inches taller.

Our humans were very kind to us, and we learned to play with people too. I liked to play rough, so when one by one my brothers and sisters began going home with visitors to the ranch, I always seemed to remain behind.

"This one truly needs a working home," said our farmer, giving me a scratch behind the ear, at which I promptly chomped hold of his hand and pulled.

"Ouch!" he said. Then he laughed. "Spitting image of your mom, and just as tough as your dad" he told me.

"I might just keep you myself." Oh, how happy I felt when I heard those words. To stay in this wondrous place with my dog mom and dog dad and learn how to work stock, that's what a border collie dreams to do.

But it was not to be. 

I was napping in the sun. I heard a rumble of a car driving up the dirt driveway. A man in a suit, a woman in a dress, a little boy in blue and a little girl in pink lace piled out of the car.

The girl came running up to the yard and peeked over the gate. "Oh, Daddy, Mommy! I want that one! I want that one! Let's call him Daniel."

The people seemed nice, so I gave a little yip to say "hello". After petting me and playing with me, these people bundled me up into their car and took me with them. Waking up from my nap early had left me so tired, I didn't play much. I didn't think they would want such a groggy puppy with no energy at all.

But they took me home, and my name became "Daniel".

"Bev," a stern man's voice said. "That pup wet on the rug again."

"I'll clean it up," said the mother of the home. "He's learning. He's just a little slow." 

"Well, I hope he hurries up," said the father's voice. "I'm tired of stepping in it, and it stinks too."

The woman pushed me out into the yard. All alone, I chased my tail. I chased a bird. I chased the neighbor's cat. I stared at a flower that was blooming. Finally, the kids came out to play. Oh was I ever happy to see them! I ran to them and slurped their faces. When I jumped on my boy, he fell down and began to cry. So I licked his face harder to make him feel better, but he just cried harder and harder. So I licked faster and faster. The little girl ran screaming back to the house, "He's eating Michael! He's eating Michael!" Seeing her run, I just had to chase her. I grabbed her foot and she fell on her face and began screaming and crying even louder. I pawed her hands so I could get them out of the way and lick her face. But she just screamed even louder still. The father of the house came running out and grabbed me. He tossed me into the garage as the mother of the house scooped up the kids and tried to kiss away their tears.

"This isn't working," the man shouted as he shut the door and left me in the dark. That scared me. Something had gone wrong and I wasn't sure what. I only wanted to play with my kids. I was so glad to see them after being left alone so long.

So now I stayed in the dark for a long time. I heard one of those truck things come clanking into the driveway. Then the man opened the door a crack and put me on a leash. "You can't stay here, Daniel," he told me. "I'm sorry it didn't work out. You just can't bite kids."  To show him I was listening, I tried to chew on his hand.  He glared at me.

I knew that if these people didn't want me that my old people would take me back. I had heard them say so. I was worried about my dog mother being disappointed in me. But I wasn't scared. I was too young to know what would happen next.

My rough play scared the kids so much, the mister and missus did not call my  farmer. They called a place called the animal shelter and asked them to come pick me up. So a man in a gray uniform stepped out of the blue truck with the silver sides. "Is this the ferocious dog?" he asked.

"That's him," the man of the house said. "I don't want him here. Put him to sleep." 

"Well, it's $20 for euthanasia," said the man in the gray uniform. "We won't put a dog down for puppy play. This is just a little pup!" 

Part of me trusted this man, although I did not understand all of his words.  I made a little puppy noise to show I liked him, and the man in the gray uniform smiled at me.

"Well, I'm not going to pay anything," the man of the house said. "Just take him." So the man in gray made my people fill out some forms, then he gently lifted me into a box that opened up from the side of the truck. Even though I bit the sides, I couldn't get out, so I soon settled down and just waited as the truck bumped along the road.

After awhile, we came to a stop. I heard the sounds of many dogs and cats. Some of them sounded really scared. But I was too young to be scared. The sounds and smells were exciting to me. When the man lifted me from the silver box, I saw other people. I bounced and tried to play with all of them. "Cliff, is this the vicious dog you picked up?" asked a woman they called Mary, who I later learned ran the place. 

"This is the one. Mary, he's just a puppy. Another misunderstood border collie pup."

"Well, he's a sweetie," Mary said. "I have just the spot for him with another pup about the same age. They can keep each other company."

So the man led me off down a narrow passage. On both sides of me, dogs lay in cages. Some barked. Some watched. Some lay listlessly and ignored me.

"Hey little dude," a big great dane barked. "Don't let them put you in one of these cages! Escape while you have a chance." But I didn't know anything about escaping, and anyway, it was too late. A gate swung shut behind me and I looked around my new quarters. 

My roommate was a little black lab with a white spot. Since I left my home at the farm, I had been so lonely for company! The little black lab and I became fast friends. I still wonder what became of him…but that's another story.

I settled in playing with this little black lab, but I had no idea of the danger that faced me. 

My card read, "Owner Turn in. Breed: Border Collie. Name Daniel. Age: 4 months. Available Now." People would walk by outside my cage and some would ask to see me. I always nipped their heels, and they always left without me. I still had no idea why some of the dogs here were so scared.

At this point in the story, the puppies Nessie and Morgan interrupted their uncle Bo. "But Uncle Bo," they called out together, "How did Mum find you? How did you come here?
"
"Ah" said Bo, yawning. "I think we will save that story for another day. Hustle off to bed with no arguments, and I'll finish the story tomorrow night."

So the border collie pups hustled off to bed, turned around three times and went right to sleep. 

How Bo Came to the Ranch

The next night found them all gathered in front of the fire, and Bo began the rest of the story.

Bo gazed into the flames, gathered his thoughts and then began to speak.

I call this one, "How I Came to the Ranch," Bo said, as the pups Nessie and Morgan listened intently.

Mum always wanted to get a cattle dog for her Dad to help him with his cattle. She never got a chance to do that.

After her Dad died, Mum was very sad for a long time. A long about the one-year anniversary, Mum decided she would go to the dog pound and try to rescue a puppy. She believes the sweet smell of puppy breath is the best cure for depression. 

The first time Mum saw me at the dog pound, she thought I was adorable. I bounced and bounced for her, but she didn't take me. The sign said I had already been adopted. 

The card told her about me. Although Mum didn't know this, I was born a purebred in January of 2000. A family with two children bought me and brought me home. They called me Daniel, and soon found I was more than they could handle. I chased the kids and nipped their toes. I didn't know I shouldn't herd them like sheep! When I made the youngest boy cry, they bundled me off and sent me to this big place they called the dog pound. I was too young to be scared. I was excited at all the people who walked by and the excitement of all the other dogs talking. Just the thought of the place scares me now, but then I was too young to know.

The next time Mum stopped by and played with me through the kennel gate, she still did not take me home. My sign still said I was adopted, and she was looking for a dog who didn't have much time left. Then fate stepped in again. The family who adopted me, changed their mind when I nipped at their kids' toes during visiting hours before they took me home. I was only playing. At the time, I did not understand why they didn't have a sense of humor about it. After all, border collies are raised for herding, and those kids were my sheep, weren't they?

Mum had a reputation at the dog shelter. She would come by frequently and play with some of  the dogs. She watched  to find one who wasn't going to be adopted. Any dog she came and played with, the saying went, would be adopted. "Pick another one," said Mary, the shelter manager. "That way we can find homes for all of them."

When Mum stopped by the pound after substitute teaching in a special ed class, she thought she was looking for a Queensland Heeler, Australian Shepherd or maybe even a Golden Retriever. But she really wanted to find one who didn't have much time left or needed a lot of room, like her little ranch offered. 

A child in the class that day had really touched her heart. His name was Daniel and he could not talk. If he liked you, he would pinch you, and try to hold you close. She could not get him out of her mind.

This time when Mum saw me in my pen, the card no longer said adopted. At first she didn't recognize me because Mary had moved me over with some puppies on the girl dog side. "Can I play with this one in the yard?" she asked the gray-suited man. He brought a leash and led me out of my pen and into the yard. 

I was on my best behavior. I came when she called, and boy did I cuddle. I did not try to bite her feet or trip her…not even once! She asked what kind of dog I was, and Mary told her that I was a border collie and that my name was Daniel.

I didn't come to her when she said Daniel, so she started calling me Bo. That fit me better and sounded right, so I came. Mum stayed with me in the play yard until Mary came out. "It's closing time," Mary said. "Are you going to take him?" 

My heart beat fast as I waited for an answer. But Mum shook her head.  "I need to think about it. I'm not sure what all a border collie needs."

That night, Mum went home and read about border collies on the internet. She found out that they need to have a job to do, and that many end up in shelters when the owners can't handle all the odd behaviors. Mum signed up for an email group called the Ultimate Border Collie list so she could get more information.  She decided that I would have a difficult time if someone without patience and a plan adopted me.

The next morning, Mum was talking to Dad and broke into tears. "What's wrong?" he asked. "There's this puppy at the dog pound... and I want him," she blurted. "I want to bail him out in my Dad's honor and because it's almost been a year since he died." 

"We already have three dogs!" he said. 

Mum cried harder.

"I'll find another home for him," she said. "I just want to get him out of that place and train him." Dad relented, so Mum was at the dog pound's door right as it opened. 

"Where's my puppy?" Mum asked the shelter manager Mary.

"I already adopted him out," Mary replied, straight faced.

"You what?" Mum cried. "But I want him!"

Mary grinned. "Of course I didn't adopt him out! You haven't given me time to do it. You're first here this morning and were the last to leave last night!"

So Mary brought me out in the pen to play with Mum while they got the paper work ready. We ran and played, and as soon as Mum signed the papers, and only then, I tripped her, because it's a border collie puppy thing to do, you understand.

Oh, and you're asking why am I still here since she said she would find me another home as soon as she trained me? Well, she hasn't finished training me yet…there's always something else to learn. But she did teach me not to trip her and not to nip feet, and I still remember the words of my dog mother: "Love your human family and don't talk to strangers." 

I make sure I don't talk to any strangers that come to our little ranch. Then no one will take me away.