No Laying on Hens

That's what I admonished Dierdre, our Briard, this morning. We had 7" of snow last night, and this morning is gorgeous: sunny, blue sky, and lots of fluffy snow. Dierdre is having so much fun!

As soon as she went out the door, she dipped her muzzle in the snow and tossed her head up, letting snow fly. Then she went into puppy mode, head down, rear end in the air, wanting to play. (She's about eight years old, by the way.) She ran ahead of me toward the barn, circling back to me every minute or so, to make sure I was aware of how great the morning was.

She wanted to play! But the sheep wouldn't cooperate. All they were interested in was food. While I threw flakes of hay onto the snow, she herded sheep, but none of them shared her snow-loving enthusiasm.

Next she tried the hens, chasing them around the barn and out into the snow. My Americauna hens are pretty good size, but seven inches of snow is just too much for them; they sank half way up their bodies and had no chance to escape Dierdre's enthusiasm. I reached her just as she caught a hen and laid on her. She actually positions her quarry under her chest and lays on the unfortunate small animal to control it. She's done this to small lambs, hens, and a very annoyed Chihuahua. She doesn't want to hurt them, just govern them. I grabbed her collar and pulled her off, and the hen, looking very ruffled and affronted, ran for cover in the barn.

As I headed for the house, Dierdre tried one more time to get the sheep to "play", with, not surprisingly, no success. I called her, and she raced to me, ears and fur blowing, snow flying from her paws. She frolicked all the way to the door. A joyful dog really makes my day; I can't help but feel happy!