Shepherd's Crook Read Online Free PDF Page B

stood in front of a white board displayed on an easel near the gate to the arena, apparently checking the list on the board against the paper in her hand. When she finished, I asked her whether there was any news, and how she was doing.
    She shook her head and said, “Just dandy.” She looked me in the eye and said, “No, not dandy at all.” Her eyes narrowed and her voice went flat and low. “I’d like to find whoever’s responsible, truss him up tight, and let the whole flock trample him into the dust.”
    Summer’s urge to hurt whoever had stolen her sheep was understandable, but I’d seen enough violence in the previous twelve months to keep me from commenting directly. Instead I said, “Hopefully the police will find them.” I almost asked whether area slaughterhouses had been given a heads up, but I couldn’t get the question out of my mouth.
    â€œDo you need something?”
    â€œNo, thanks, I just came to see when Jay and I go.” I smiled at Summer, then turned to the white board with the list of dogs in the instinct test. Please don’t let us be first. I read the six names. Jay and I were second. I breathed again.
    Summer patted my arm and said, “You’ll do fine.” She tried for a smile and added, “Well, Jay will. Just stay out of his way and do what the tester tells you.”
    Way to bolster my self-confidence at my first herding event, I thought, but I knew she was right. Even without much training, Jay knew a lot more about handling sheep than I did. I started to walk away, but turned back, pulling the cell phone out of my pocket. “You gave me the wrong phone,” I said.
    Summer stared at the phone in my hand, looking confused. She reached into her right pocket and when she came up empty, checked the left. She looked at the phone in her hand—my phone—and said, “Oh, wow. Sorry.”
    I rejoined Tom and Jay, but was too jumpy to sit down. As usual, my dog was fully in the moment, and as I watched him, my scared-o -meter dropped a degree or two. Jay sat beside Tom’s chair, his whole being focused on the three sheep that Ray and Bonnie had just moved from the holding pen to the main arena. The Aussie breed standard described Jay’s ears perfectly—the base of each lifted away from his head, with the remaining three-fourths of the soft triangular flaps falling slightly to the side. That, and the look of eagles in his eyes, gave back whatever confidence Summer’s comment had taken from me.

nine
    The first dog into the arena for the instinct test was a very young blue merle Border Collie named Spring. April Bruce, her owner, had told me that she was seven months old and had never seen sheep before. Spring entered the ring calmly enough, and the tester told April to walk her closer to the sheep. As they approached, one of the ewes raised her head and turned to stare at the puppy. My heart was beginning to pound as I watched, but Spring stood still, one front foot a few inches in front of the other, shoulders slightly crouched, head thrust forward.
    â€œHave her down,” the tester said. Spring lay down on April’s command, and the tester said, “Take her leash and send her.”
    As soon as she was released, Spring got to work. She ran a wide circle to get behind the three woollies and pushed them forward with her quiet presence.
    Tom touched my arm and asked, “Did you say she’s never seen sheep before?”
    â€œThat’s what April told me.”
    â€œWow.”
    Wow indeed. As her owner walked a serpentine path across the ring, Spring moved back and forth behind the trio to keep them moving. She stopped and backed up on command, working like a dog that had some training.
    â€œShe’s a hard act to follow,” I said.
    â€œYou’ll do fine.” Tom ran his hand over the top of Jay’s skull and down the back of his neck. “Both of you.”
    I