Our sheps were old time shepherds' dogs. I did not know their origin then nor do I today. They were there and that was enough...They were smart, loyal, sturdy, wash-and-wear, healthy dogs with common sense and a sense of fun. They helped with everything they could , and they stayed between us and trouble. If there was no job for them, they went with us, anyway, keeping a watchful eye on the farm, the animals, and the kids they owned.
Old Shep was a dog for all seasons. I thought there would always be a Shep: He was as eternal as the hills hung with blue haze that bordered our existence.
Ah, but he wasn't.
I want Shep back. It may be late, but I want him back. I want to roam with Shep. I want a dog with common sense who stays home. I want a dog who goes with me to make night checks of calving cows in the barns. I want a dog to lie in the corral gate to keep some cattle in while we let others out. I want a dog who barks at snakes, whether are are slithering on the ground or trying to sell me siding. I want a dog who stays between me and danger. I want a dog who could help put in the stupid chickens if I had any. I want a dog who will help pen loose cattle. I want a dog who will watch over my grandkids if I ever have any. I want a dog to warm me with his welcome wagging when I come home tired after a long day away from the farm. I want a dog to lie on my feet or lick my hand as I sit on the porch at dusk.
I want Shep back.
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Whatever Happened to Old Shep by Linda Rorem