The difficulty with taking dog pictures and going for a walk!
Ir. Ch.Khorlynton Kerdic Konsort
Named after the poet, laid back and sleepy on the surface, but always thinking. He loved to explore and investigate, never happier than with his head down holes, pots or blowing up horses noses (various nicknames applied… horse, clunk etc!).
On one occasion while left alone too long in the kitchen while awaiting ..‘the bath’ …he was found on the kitchen table neatly folded into an 18”x18”x24” cardboard box with only his head visible. Had he had a few more minutes , I’m sure the box would have been closed, and a label neatly paw written…..
Speedicook Porridge Oats
Scarva road Tandragee
On walks he hated to go home, no matter how long the walk he always knew when the turn to go home came, he stopped dead , heels dug in and refusing to budge like Delaney’s donkey! We tried going home on different routes, but he always knew. He must have had a built in GPS!
On one occasion, he and I came close to death .. me closer than him! When ‘her indoors’ worked in Belfast, I used to meet her after work, at her parents farmhouse outside Newtownards . Now, I for years, kept and trained German Shorthaired Pointers. ‘My’ gundogs were always well trained and obedient, walked to heel, cast around hunting, dropped to whistle and hand, returned on command and whistle and ….always ‘ignored’ farm animals!
It became a habit, I would go a little early and take the gundogs (and Louis the Whippet and chief scout) for a wander across the fields.
Let me explain here. In Ireland we have happy sheep. they don’t have to walk much and most of the time they can lie down and eat. It was once pointed out to me by a man I met from Perth, Australia, that sheep and cattle never lie down.. on account the grass is a bit spaced out…… no I mean sparse! Not so in Norn Iron. We have the laziest sheep in the world. They sleep in their dinner!
It was always a ‘thing’ with me that the Afghans could never be off the lead and indeed were virtually un-trainable to GSP standards.
I started to take Shelley with me, determined to prove my ability as a dog trainer. All went well for a week or so. Shelley stayed to heel with a little practice, then with the lead off. Yes, it was working. As each day progressed, Shelley got further and further away from me , but came back to heel when called. Wonderful it was working!
False! I was being sucked in!
On this particular sunshiny Spring day, on my leisurely stroll with the well trained GSPs, chief scout Whippet, and of course the very laid back gentleman hairy one, I was getting quite relaxed about Afghans off the lead.
Big mistake! The invisible umbilical cord I had imagined .. never existed! Within minutes a golden mass of hair was re-enacting Rawhide two fields away with flock of about 100 Yews( female sheep ..pronounced ..Yows, Yaws, Yos depending what part of the country you are from, and even yousins if your from Belfast!!) To be fair it was more like “head ’em up! roll ’em out!” than Rawhide. He circled them, rounded them up, split them into smaller flocks , some lay down and prayed , and became instant Free Presbyterians. Others lay on their backs in surrender! Won’t talk about those, ‘cause Presbyterians don’t do that.
To be fair he never bit or drew blood , just practised his herding and agility skills at speed. I yelled, I chased, I nearly had a hand on him only to be made an ejit of. with the Afghan chink! I had no gun, no stones, no sticks only hands that couldn’t reach his throat …..to throttle him.
I prayed to God to kill him and/or me ! I collapsed in a heap ..completely exhausted ,asthma attack imminent.
I heard a voice somewhere call “Shelley!” Her indoors had arrived. He ambled over to her in greeting and was hustled away before I came too ….and did his death.
I never moved from that field for half an hour ..I couldn’t!
No sheep where hurt or damaged in the making of this incident, I checked the field next day and did a rough head count before the zzeds set in.
I miss the oul ejit all the same.