Another Day, Another Training Challenge

But mom, you said to keep the sheep out of the exhaust pen.

My tri-colored Border collie sees the world in black and white.

Niki is the most challenging, most affectionate, cutest and hardest working dog I own. But, she sees the world differently than my other dogs.

At the sheepdog competition this past weekend, I used her to exhaust sheep for the pro-novice class. The sheep weren't so sure they wanted to go into the exhaust, or holding pen, at the end of each competitor's run. The pen was unfamiliar, and sheep don't like unfamiliar.

Niki loved running out onto the field, collecting the sheep and directing them to the exhaust pen. She enthusiastically did her job time and time again.

On the second day of the trial, the sheep no longer saw the exhaust pen as an unfamiliar, scary place. Instead, it was a place where they could eat hay and get away from the dogs.

So Niki's job description changed.

Her job was to make sure the sheep did not get to the exhaust pen during each competitor's run. At the end of the run, though, she was to let the sheep into the pen.

And, that's where she got confused.

She was all into keeping them OUT of the pen at ALL times. That was great when the handlers were competing, but not when they were finished. She was not going to let those sheep into the exhaust pen EVER.

To get the job done, I resorted to keeping her on leash, opening the exhaust pen gate and keeping her out of the way so the sheep could get into the pen.

It's Monday now, and I'm pondering how to help Niki understand that her job description can change every five minutes.

The good news is that she wants to work with me. The bad news is that I've got to figure out her language.

One Day She's Wearing a Dress, then Next She's Off to School...

I picked her out when she was 5 weeks old.

And visited her until she was ready to leave her litter mates.

At 10 weeks of age, I don't know if she's going to be a good sheepdog. I just know her parents are--and that she's cute.

I dressed in her a sundress once. Yes, I know Border collies don't wear dresses, but a co-worker gave it to me. Even the cat knew she looked ridiculous.

The older dogs were less than impressed by Niki, and still are. But 3-year-old Raven was willing to play with her.

To get her used to car rides, I loaded her in the car and took her to the nearby Stillwater Prairie, where we took  long walks.

She traveled to sheepdog trials with Raven and me--and posed for Patti.

I tried to teach her to respect the cats.

But Trick wanted to play with her.

We survived three 7-week sessions of obedience class. She became more attentive and learned to sit and stay and down--but was too much of a busy-body and pup to be the star pupil.

At home, we played the "trade me" game, and she learned to give up shoes, gloves, and deer legs.

She grew long-legged, and she joined the other dogs for the daily treks around the hay fields and ponds.

Last week, at age 10 months, she went to the sheepdog trainer. While I'm anxious to see if this pup will take to herding like her mama, I was sad to see her go.

I miss having her at my feet, chewing a bone in the mornings. Though, it is nice to leave my shoes on the floor and know they'll be in the exact same spot when I return.

Trading for a Deer Leg

When Niki arrived as an 8-week-old pup, I taught her the "trade me" game.

She wanted to chew on shoes, socks, remote controls, towels, tissues, hats, gloves, anything. I wanted her to give up her prizes without a fight and without engaging in the "chase me" game.

So, I offered her balls, toys and treats as trades.

Slowly, she learned what was appropriate to chew--and  gave up her prizes without a fight.

The game came in handy this past weekend when she found a prize -- my leather work glove. She ran around the yard and tossed it in the air.

I took photos and dug in my pocket for a treat.

And, we traded.

But the real test came yesterday during our walk at dusk.

She came trotting in from the waterway with a grand prize -- a deer leg.

What would a 5-month-old puppy trade for a deer leg?

I went to the refrigerator and pulled out a small piece of chicken.

Stepping outside, I called, "Niki,"

Deer leg in mouth, she trotted toward me and eyed me warily.

When I showed her the chicken, she dropped the leg, came to me and sat. I fed her another piece and put her in the crate.

I was now the proud owner of a deer leg.