Sheep Hound

The week wears on and the weather gets worse.  A cold icy rain started falling while I was doing chores tonight and chased the sheep in for me.  Last night I had to climb the hill in the dark to find them.  I like to close them in the barnyard during the day while I'm at work.  A bit of that glorious moon remained to help guide us, and my little headlight with the waning bulb, but it was mostly black five feet in front of me.  I had climbed a while and was weary of going further.  I looked at Reba, who is always close by waiting for orders as she probably did with the former owner who abandoned her in a nearby field, and said, "Reba!  Go get' em!"  That was all she needed to hear.  I figured the flock was up high on the hill, near the pond, bedded down.  Reba was gone for a while in the dark and I thought, oh, no, what is she doing.  Did she go for a run up on the ridge?  Suddenly  I saw glowing eyes, many pairs of them, running down the hill to the barnyard.  My headlight made them look like ghostly creatures, bobbing up and down as they ran.  And there was Reba driving them down, not too fast, but just keeping up behind them.  Who would think a coon hound/beagle/whatever mix she is would be a sheep dog?  As we walked up the hill for our afternoon climb today, Reba saw the sheep grazing, looked back at me and said do you want me to bring them back?  I said, no Reba, not now.  It was hard for her to turn away, as she wants so badly to please me, and tell me thank you for this wonderful home you gave me, with all these wonderful fields and animals to chase, and a warm fire, soft sofa, and all the food I can eat.