By Cindi Hayden

The sky was a brilliant blue with few clouds to filter the burning rays of sun beating down on the bare skin of my arms.Sparse blades of green poked through the crack- ling golden grass.A single shadow swept over the ground in front of me.I looked up to see a red tailed hawk gliding overhead.Soft winds offered occasional wafts of cooler air as I walked towards the field inhaling the fragrant smell of hay. My clothes were damp and heavy from sweat,but anticipation ignored the heat of the day as I headed to the field to meet a man and a Border collie in need of training.

The snapping together of her teeth could be heard thirty feet away.Shreds of wool littered the ground.The man hung on as the dog lunged against the long line,frenzied.The terrorized sheep were penned against the fence.Blood from a bite was smeared on wool from one sheep to the next as they tried to dodge the onslaught.Her lips were curled back revealing all her teeth,her eyes were black and deep with anger.She lunged again and again grabbing mouthfuls of wool,trying for more. Blood dripped from her tooth punctured tongue.Her misdi- rected rage was evident.

The man pulled the choking dog off the sheep and walked through the gate with greetings.The dog was overweight. Foaming spittle hung on her face.Her sides heaved to catch air as she plunked down on the ground.The man spoke. I paid him no mind as I watched the dog and wondered.The man let go of the long line.The dog got up and trotted toward me,wagging her tail. The fluidness of her wriggling body and the softness in her face was revealing. A kinder,gentler dog possessed the same body as that hard,cold-eyed dog I had just witnessed in action. She jumped up,paws on my thigh,wanting to be petted. She accepted my touch for a few brief seconds before the look in her eyes changed. She stiffened.She growled,bared her teeth and retreated.Wriggling,she greeted me several more times only to stiffen,bare her teeth,growl and retreat.

The man wore a big smile. He told me the dog was five years old. She had never seen sheep before today. He asked if I liked her style. Her style? Within her ferocious attacks she displayed an undomesticated predatory style. More outstanding was her misaligned anger and fear. Clearly this had been an occasion for her to let loose her pent up frustrations.In a state of chaos, instincts of fight or flight and predatory re flexes all firing at once,she lost the self-control she had clung to for so long.

Now that the man had my attention,he began an all-too-familiar story of the Border collie that no one had time for and was too much trouble for the family to keep.

They canʼt afford to train her. Would I take her so she could live the life a Border collie should? I had enough dogs of my own.My youngest Border collie was two years old.I had plans to get a pup next fall to properly raise and train.I didn ʼt want a dog like this in fluencing my youngsters.I would mention a few associations that might help him.Besides,why would I want a dog like this?

The angle of the afternoon sun suggested it was close to four o ʼclock.The warm air had a suffocating effect as I stepped out from my pick up.Walking across the lawn,leash in hand, I was lost in thought over the beautiful,confused dog pulling me along.Intrigue had led me to agree to take her for a couple of weeks.I had a feeling there was something quite special about this dog and something quite wrong in her world.

Quizzical faces met me at the door.I hadn ʼt mentioned bring- ing a dog home.To all,I recalled the day ʼs events that led this mysterious little dog,Bet,to our home.Bet greeted my hus- band,son and niece just as she had greeted me.They found her Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde personality unnerving. But,they too sensed in her the same softness as I had.As time went on, it would be her saving grace.

Dragging a leash behind her,Bet explored the house.She was immediately drawn to the playroom scattered with children ʼs toys.Full of enthusiasm,she ran across the room,slid to a stop and picked up a stuffed animal.Wagging her tail,she dropped the toy at my feet,backed up and looked at me,eliciting play. Bared teeth lunged to meet my hand as I reached for the toy. Snarling,she braced her body to protect the stuffed animal, although not picking it up herself.Someone had taught her the dangerous game of dare.It came to be that this game was at the root of her confusion and many behavior problems.I picked up the end of her leash and removed her from the room.

Evening was closing in now. Mosquitoes hung on the screen door waiting in ambush as we stepped out into the only slight- ly cooler air. The setting sun reached over the trees with a final red blaze.The crickets and tree frogs were in full symphony. It was time to take the dogs for a sunset walk and a swim in the small pond.We often walk the dogs together as a family. It ʼs a nice closure to the day,a time to enjoy the farm,the dogs ʼ antics and each other ʼs conversations. This evening Bet would join our own dogs,two Border collies,two Australian Cattle dogs and an Australian Shepherd.I had her on a twenty foot line and would keep her on it whenever we were outside for the next ten days.It would be during our walks that she would learn her place in the pack,respect and companionship, with dogs and humans.Our dogs are used to canine newcomers.After a few brief introductory sniffs,all ran off to pursue their own summertime pleasures.

Fat toads adorned the cool stone steps of the house while bats patrolled overhead in search of insects.Stepping inside,the aroma of rich to- mato sauce and garlic still hung thick in the air. Dimly lit by fading sun,the house held a peace- fulness of soft shadows and silence.I slid my hand along the wall feeling for a light switch, struggling to hold Bet ʼs leash with my other hand as she tugged and flopped about. Her sudden change of behavior this evening was very unlike her bold entrance earlier in the day.With a sharp click of the switch the lights came on. Bet jerked free from my hand and disappeared into the darkness of the next room.Turning on more lights,I spotted her black and white body tightly wedged between the wall and a large sofa.As I slowly approached,muf fled growls took on more meaning. She recoiled like a cornered animal defending her life,growling, snapping her white teeth and barking a fearful warning.

We learned that this was Betʼs reaction to the loss of daylight. As evening fell upon us she would find a place to hide in the house.No bribery could soften her fear or fight to stay put.Sunrise bore a friendly dog welcoming the family.Bet displayed several other nocturnal oddities as well.Ordinary household activities, dropping a spoon,opening a drawer or scratch- ing your head would send her running.Something in Bet ʼs past,coinciding with dusk,had created her nightmares.

I decided Bet would stay by my side whenever possible.I put a rug next to our bed and tied her leash to the bed post.All was well until I made an attempt to get up in the middle of the night.Lowering my feet to the floor,I was met with snapping teeth and quickly retreated.This misstep occurred several more times before I remembered to leave from the foot of the bed. As I lay in the still of the moon-lit night,not yet ready to yield to the soft pillow and cool sheets surrounding me,I made plans for the morning. Bet and I were going to herd sheep.

To be continued...

(Cindi Hayden is a herding dog trainer in Contoocook,N.H. She can be contacted via her website: www.cindihayden.com )