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Feb. 2007
Gone to the Dogs
Dear Friends,
Man’s best friend is especially important on the farm. Over the years, our farm dogs haven’t been pampered much. They live in a doghouse near our home or in a straw pile by the barn. Our farm dogs have always been well fed and loved, but they have always been tough and served important purposes around the place.
When my brother and I were very young, the important job for our farm dogs, Skippy and Princess, was to be good companions to us. Both dogs performed perfectly, allowing Paul and I to pull their ears and tails, wrestle with them and lay on them, without complaint and so much as a snarl.
As we grew older, our farm dogs like Duke, Boots and Honey, took on different roles. They were considered invaluable in sorting cattle, moving cows home from pasture and watching gates while we fed hay. Boots also became quite a good hog sorting dog, fetching specific butcher hogs from corners in our large outdoor finishing pens and bringing them through open gates in our pens when we were ready to sell them.
These dogs were friendly too, but they were more comfortable around our immediate family and didn’t take much to getting their ears pulled on by total strangers. My Dad taught all of the dogs to shake hands (or paws as the case might be) and to hug. They would stand up on the hind legs and place their front paws on your shoulders, begging to be scratched behind the ears.
Duke was an especially tough old dog. He liked to chase squirrels up a tree and catch them by the tail as they tried to climb out of his reach. It was amazing to watch as this short, stocky old dog jumped up to catch a squirrel at just the right moment. If a squirrel escaped his grasp, he got angry. He would bark for hours as the squirrel chattered back, safe in the tree limbs above the dog.
Duke’s ability to catch squirrels from trees also got him into trouble. One Sunday as we returned home from church, we watched Duke follow a squirrel as it jumped above him from limb to limb. He galloped along as fast as he could on the ground, waiting for the squirrel to have a misstep or missed jump and fall into his open mouth.
As the squirrel lept from limb to limb, Duke arched his head high up to watch it clearly. In the intensity of the chase, he didn’t take notice of where he was and ran smack into a 30-year-old green ash tree. He yelped a bit, fell to the ground and moaned and whimpered, no doubt from a tremendous headache. The unforgiving squirrel chattered happily from his lofty perch.
Now that Donna and I have young children of our own, the responsibilities of farm dogs around our place have changed again. We now want those docile dogs around again, that love the affection of young children and don’t mind if little fingers occasionally pull their ears and tail.
Besides, dogs like that have fewer problems with squirrels, and fewer trees jumping out in front of them, too.
W.K. Kellogg Foundation
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