Tag: livestock guardian dogs

On Boudica

~ Crystal Sands ~ 6 Comments

I think there is something outside, and by “something,” I think it might be a skunk. Boudica wants to go back outside, but Ron just made her come in the house because she was barking like a wild dog. The way she’s barking, we know something is out there, but she has a track record with skunks of late. She was stinky for weeks this fall. Another time, she didn’t really get sprayed, but it was a close call–and she was a little bit stinky then too.

She’s usually so level headed, but there is something about small mammals that makes her go wild.

I don’t know what I would do without her taking care of me. She is the first guardian dog I ever owned (and I hate that word for her), and I have been in awe of just how much she works, how much she knows, and how much she takes care of all of us. Sometimes, I think she thinks I can’t care for myself, and I am pretty sure she knows I would be lost without her. I hope that makes her determined to stay.

There is something not right with her, and she has an appointment with the vet in a couple of weeks. It’s the earliest appointment they had. I hope it’s just arthritis, but it’s been a year since her last check up. I know a lot can go wrong in a year.

She’s also been extra close to me for the last couple of months. I have been extra close to her. At night, when she is finished working on the farm, she will sit with me on the sofa while I grade essays. I pet her often and try to massage her legs where they might hurt. She has been slower to get up, and we decided we should probably not take her on long walks anymore until we figure out what is going on.

As I type these words, I am so scared, and I both want her vet appointment to hurry and get here and also to never get here. I want to know it’s just arthritis, and hopefully, the natural meds I bought for her will be all she needs. But, of course, I am so worried there is something bigger wrong. I won’t think about it right now though. My heart can’t handle it.

Still, Boudica’s slowness reminds me that she won’t live forever. She will be 9 years old this year, and I know she’s getting up there. But since she was about 2 years old, we have been cooking for her, so she has eaten really well most of her life. I learned some years ago that the Great Pyrenees, who still live in the region where the breed originates, live several years longer than the Great Pyrenees in the U.S. Some of it could be genetics, but breeders speculate that it’s commercial dog food shortening their lives. In the Pyrenees Mountains between Spain and France, the dogs are fed the same food the people eat, and they live longer.

So I am going to be hopeful, and I felt like sharing with you some of my favorite things about this amazing girl…

  1. She wakes me up every morning with heavy breathing in my face. I always give her pets and then tell her I need five more minutes. I don’t know if she’s really gone five minutes, but she goes away and comes back a short time later. If I start talking to her, I get the Pyr Paw, which kind of hurts, so I get out of bed.
  2. The Pyr Paw is famous amongst Pyrs. When you pet them, they pet you back, but they don’t have as much control, which means sometimes you just get bonked. Boudica has bonked me so many times, but only one time did she make me cry. She felt terrible, and when you cry, Boudica has to get right in your face to check on you.
  3. Boudica is a magnificent livestock guardian dog. She understands aerial predators, and not all livestock guardian dogs can do this. Big birds are on her list, and she will chase them away. The only bad thing is the dove who visit our feeders are a little borderline for her, and she sometimes chases them away for good measure.
  4. Boudica does a lot of things for good measure. She is so much like me and is a “better safe than sorry” kind of person. She worries about things and is cautious. We are sisters. We are soulmates.
  5. Boudica loves organic shredded wheat cereal, like loves it. When I have cereal for breakfast, Boudica gets a bowl, and somehow, no matter where she is or what she’s doing, she knows when I am getting cereal.
  6. And speaking of knowing, Boudica knows things. For years, I wasn’t sure if she just had an amazing vocabulary or if she was reading my mind. I now know she’s reading my mind. Temple Grandin says animals communicate telepathically in pictures, and I have come to understand what this means. Boudica also knows when things are about to happen–and that’s something I can’t figure out. But when my son used to be in the local orchestra, Ron would take him to rehearsals every Thursday night. I would stay home with the dogs. I started to notice that Boudica would start barking several minutes before they would pull into the driveway. I finally started timing her. When the barking would start, I would note the time, and I learned she was barking 3 to 4 minutes before they pulled into the driveway. I decided to time myself driving home and realized it takes about 3.5 minutes to get to our driveway once you turn onto our road. Our road is long, and it’s about a mile and half from the turn to our house. Boudica knew when they turned onto our road. How? I have no idea. But, one time, I was watching a nature documentary about wolves, and I saw a female pack leader, who was leading the pack on a hunt, suddenly stop in her tracks. She stopped the whole pack right in the middle of a hunt. Two miles away, there was a bison dying of old age, and she changed directions and led the pack to the bison. Two miles! Those are some superpowers. Boudica has some of those.
  7. Boudica is a great teacher. She trained Gus how to be with the chickens and ducks, and she trained Bairre. We help her, of course, but she did most of the work.
  8. She is getting a little grumpy in her old age, and since I am in menopause, I understand this deeply. We are grumpy about the world together. Both of us are frustrated by people doing things that just do not make sense.
  9. She has been like a third parent to our son. Truly, she helped raise him. When he was little and would go outside to play on his own, Ron would tell her to “watch the boy,” and she would never leave his side. Now, when our son leaves to go on walks down the road, she barks at him when he heads out, griping at him for leaving her jurisdiction. She watches the road until he returns.
  10. She’s so soft and fluffy that I could snuggle her forever. I have tried many times to get her to sleep with us at night, but she just won’t do it. Ron says it’s probably too hot for her. She does sleep in the coolest spots in the house. Of course, she doesn’t sleep, sleep. She works. I have heard her sleep, sleeping during the day though, and she has the cutest snore you have ever heard!

I wish I could think of more. I wish I could think of some way to convey how magnificent she is, how special she is. But you probably know. You probably have a friend like her who is also magnificent and special.

Boudica has been one of the best things to happen to me in my life. I have to remember how lucky I am to have the time I have with her. I don’t deserve her, but I swear, I try to, every day.

She watches the skies.

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

This morning, we had a near death experience with a hawk. I did not see it, but we clearly had a hawk come in and make a try for one of our chickens.

Ron and I were playing cards while drinking our tea and coffee. The morning chores had been done a while. It was raining, so Ron said he was surprised when Boudica didn’t want to come inside. He said she looked like she meant to work this morning, so Bairre came in the house after chores but not Boudica. We were just about finished with a long game with our cards when Boudica started going off in a big way.

I didn’t run since it seemed like she was barking at the woods and we have good fences, but I did stop what I was doing and head outside. The stress of the situation hit me as soon as I got outside and heard everything. I couldn’t see the chickens at all, which was a big worry, and the birds in the trees were making very weird noises. It sounded like distress. That sound, coupled with Boudica, who was completely freaking out at this point because she was in a different fence and couldn’t get to the chickens, put me to work.

I ran toward the front, forested part of the chicken yard. I couldn’t see anything in the trees, but only a few people were in the coop. I figured everyone had to be in the woods.

When I got there, about half the flock came out running, some went to the raspberry bushes to hide, and others ran all the way to coop. I knew the situation must have been bad because they were all making terrified noises. Even Mary Jane, who was running by the way, was making the strangest noise I have ever heard her–or any chicken–make.

As I made my way into the trees, more chickens came out, and then I heard movement above my head. I saw a gray hawk fly out of a neighbor’s tree that is right above our chicken yard. It flew back toward my neighbor’s house. I am about 90 percent sure it was a Cooper’s hawk. It’s almost always a Cooper’s hawk in our woods.

Then, I started hunting. Ron came outside, and I filled him in. “Boudica is amazing!” he said.

“It’s the truth!” I replied.

I kept looking, and, eventually, Ron came to help. We both agreed that, surely, since I had seen the hawk, that it didn’t get anyone; still, I would feel better finding all of the littles. They are all nearly grown, but Tuesday, Wednesday, and Lenore, are still pretty small and could easily be carried off by a hawk. I will never hatch fall babies again. It’s warm enough now in Maine to do it, but they are pretty little still during hawk season. They have an extra risk.

I could find all of the littles except for Tuesday and Wednesday. Lenore and Annie were in the raspberry bushes, and Clara was in the coop. I found poor little Jacqueline out by herself by the front fence, trying to get into the coop the wrong way. She was completely panic stricken, so I reached down to just pick her up and carry her to the coop. When I did, she reacted violently. Her little head turned around, and she got me and my robe with her beak. She mainly got my robe, but it still hurt. She was just about to get me again, when I started talking sweet to her. She released her vice grip on my robe, and I felt her feet relax. That poor little baby had been traumatized. Because she was completely alone, she may have been a target, but I am not sure. I just know I have never seen a hen that traumatized.

I was still looking for Tuesday and Wednesday when I found Piatigorsky hiding so still in the bushes in the woods. She must have had a close call too. She was so still, I thought she was dead at first. I had to say her name three times before she moved. I reached in to pick her up, and she just buried her head into me. She is still the sweetest girl, and I am so glad she is okay. Next, I found Faure in a similar situation, but she didn’t want me to pick her up. I did have to walk her to Ron, who then walked her to the coop.

Ron and I continued to communicate as we gradually found people. Still, neither of us had found Tuesday and Wednesday. Ron told me to try to coop one more time and check the nest boxes. When I did, I found Wednesday. I was so happy to find her but then also a little more worried that there was no Tuesday. The chances of a hawk getting away with one baby in the time it took me to get out there was not zero.

Ron and I kept looking. We made our way back into the woods that we had already searched and searched when Tuesday came walking out of camouflage it seems. There she was, the cutest little thing I have ever seen–only aged a few years after that much stress. She stayed right with us as we walked her back to the coop.

“We had better go thank Boudica extra hard,” Ron said, and I agreed. We both made the biggest fuss over her, and she was so proud. I cannot express the depths of my gratitude to her in words, but I think she felt it. It is a gratitude I felt in my chest and in my bones this morning.

“She watches the skies,” Ron said. “It’s remarkable.”

I agreed.

It is humbling beyond all measure to be in the presence of such greatness. How lucky am I to have Boudica as my dear friend and partner on this homestead?

*It feels important that I add a quick note at the end of the story about Boudica and her magnificence. Boudica is a Great Pyrenees, a Livestock Guardian dog. She was not born knowing how to protect our flocks. She learned. It is a myth that you do not have to train LGDs. Great Pyrenees are the smartest dogs I have ever encountered. They have been bred for thousands of years to have strong critical thinking skills and to think for themselves without humans around. They learn so quickly, but they do have to be taught. Far too many Great Pyrenees are surrendered to shelters because people do not understand this.

On Boudica, in Honor of National Dog Day

~ Crystal Sands ~ 3 Comments

Boudica is my friend.

I used to say about my dogs, “I have a dog.” With Boudica, this language doesn’t seem right. It’s more like “I have the honor of living with a dog named Boudica.”

Boudica was our first Great Pyrenees. Before we got her, I researched the breed for years. I checked out every book available in our public library. I read information online. I understood that Pyrenees were smart and difficult and loved to bark. I understand they are picky eaters. I understood they were very independent thinkers. But didn’t really understand these things until Boudica came to live with us. It was all of this and so much more.

I remember the first time I understood her capacity for language, for example. I was telling a story about something she had done that was kind of bad but still really funny. Because it was funny, my voice was uplifted, so I was surprised when Boudica came to me looking so ashamed about the story I was telling about her.

I said, “Oh, baby, no! It’s a sweet story,” and gave her love. Then, I wondered how much language she was understanding. She was very young when this happened, so I was really surprised. After that, Ron and I both just emphasized language learning with her. Ron does it extra with our puppy, Bairre. It’s adorable watching Ron pull something out of the oven and tell Bairre, “Hot. That’s hot.” Of course, we don’t know if he will share Boudica’s amazing capacity for language, but just in case, it’s good to give him a head start.

When we met Boudica in 2016 and brought her home, it was just love at first sight. She seemed so ready to just be with us. When the man put her in my arms, she just leaned in. I was madly in love with her. She was so beautiful. I couldn’t believe she was ours.

Of course, I had no idea what I was in for. I hoped I was getting someone to help us on the farm. I didn’t know I was getting a helper in life.

She comes from ancient breed. I read the Great Pyrenees breed goes back to about 1800 BCE and is so old there have been fossilized remains found. In those thousands of years, these dogs were bred to be independent and critical thinkers. Apparently, the shepherds could just leave their flocks with the Pyrenees for extended periods of time, and the Pyrenees would take care of things. They didn’t need the humans around to tell them what to do. They knew. I feel like that says everything, and I am in awe that I get to witness this kind of beautiful intelligence every day from my girl.

I can count on Boudica. I have hard time counting on people, but Boudica can be counted on.

She senses everything. Boudica had always been a daddy’s girl, and Gus was my baby boy. When Gus died so tragically, I leaned into Boudica, and she took care of me. We are incredibly close now. She knows what I need before I know it. She wakes me up from bad dreams. She watches the animals. She knows exactly what I mean when I tell her I need her to protect the ducks from the owls because I am running late with the peas. This summer, when we put the meat chickens out in their new home, they were very little. Ron said, “Boudica, take care of dad’s chickens,” and she ran out to them and started patrolling, weaving in and out of the chickens as if to say, “I’m here and will handle this.”

Interestingly, the chickens were not scared of her, and they had never seen a dog before. Wisely, they were scared of Bairre. He so wanted to play.

Boudica is a worrier like me. I worry about her for being a worrier, and I have no doubt that she worries about me for being a worrier. I’m pretty sure she’s convinced we can’t make it without her. She feels such a strong need to care for us. Truly, she helped raise our son. When he was little and would go outside for his walks to clear his head, we would tell her to “go watch her boy,” and she would. She wouldn’t take her eyes off of him.

I’m looking at her right now as I write this. She is sitting next to me, mostly relaxed, I think. I am going to go brush her because I have found recently that brushing her seems to help both of us relax, and as worriers, we really need that.

My goodness, she is beautiful. And I don’t even deserve her. Of course, do any of us deserve dogs? I guess all we can do is keep trying.

Puppies and Ducks

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

Day 178 of 365

It’s Thursday night, so I have many essays to grade, especially this Thursday because, well, puppy.

But I have a quick story that I am going to try my best to capture on video if it happens again. And I’m guessing it will happen again.

Boudica is starting to really chip in and help with Bairre. This morning, she baby sat for a good two hours. I was so thankful. I got so much done. Still, even Boudica gets worn out from him, and she looks at me like, “Yeah, I’m done.”

This afternoon, they were both outside with Ron while he worked in the duck yard. We do not leave the puppy alone with the ducks yet because he does chase them, and we don’t want a duck to get hurt. Since Ron was outside with them, I didn’t worry, but then I heard a terrible duck commotion. I ran outside just in time to see the ducks going one way and Bairre going the other. I also saw Ron laughing so hard.

“Did you see it?” he asked.

I told him I did not. He said it was too bad because it was hilarious. He said Boudica has been trying to keep in between Bairre and the ducks, but after a bit, she was just done. Ron said Boudica looked at Bairre like, “Go ahead, little boy.”

So Bairre started chasing the ducks when suddenly our male duck, Antonio, turned around, put his bill down low, and just charged the puppy. Ron said Bairre looked terrified and started just running and running with his tail tucked under. Apparently, Antonio chased him for a good bit before moving on and returning to his girls.

Ron said it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. He also added that Boudica thought the whole thing was pretty fantastic too.

PS You see what I see in those eyes, right?

The Loyalty of a Farm Dog

~ Crystal Sands ~ 7 Comments

Day 4 of 365

Yesterday, a hawk flew over the duck area, and I could see it from the dining room window. I was up and alert, as was Boudica, our Great Pyrenees. In a matter of seconds, Boudica and I went from looking out the window to action. Without thinking, I went to open the back door and said to Boudica, “You take the ducks. I’ll take the chickens.”

She was on it. She raced to the duck yard, and as I raced to the chicken yard, I realized how fortunate I am to have a farm dog like Boudica. She is my partner and my friend, and she takes care of me in a way that I have never experienced before. Usually, we take care of our animals, and they will give back to us in so many important ways. But with Boudica, it’s different.

Great Pyrenees are remarkable dogs, but they are also difficult. They make wonderful farm dogs, but they must be trained not to chase the smaller animals, like chickens and ducks. And, when I say “trained,” it’s a certain kind of trained. You really can’t make a Great Pyrenees do anything they don’t want to do. They are bred to be independent thinkers, decision makers on their own. I mean, maybe you can make them, but you would not want to do that to their spirit. You just teach with kindness. You express what you need in a way they can understand, and out of love for you, they comply.

They also bark–a lot. If a squirrel sneezes or a car door opens a half mile away, it is likely worth a bark.

I am speaking in generalizations, of course. I have worked with just two Great Pyrenees in my life, but I read several books before taking on this breed of dog. They are not for the faint of heart. Our Pyrenees, Gus, who passed away last fall and who was likely one of the great loves of my life, could be so difficult. I remember going out to the deck to tell him to stop barking like a maniac when the tiny neighbor dog walked by on a leash. When I commanded him to stop, I was, of course, ignored. It was only when I reasoned with him and asked him very kindly to “please, please, please tone it down” that he would relent. I am in some Facebook groups for Great Pyrenees “owners,” and I see a lot of rehoming posts because these dogs are just more than a lot of people can anticipate.

And I put “owners” in quotation marks because you do not “own” a Great Pyrenees. They will be your partner in life and work and will show you a loyalty the likes of which I cannot put into words if you are loyal to them, too. And therein lies their magnificence, I think.

Boudica cares for me in a way that I have never experienced with an animal. The care is real. Her help is real. I love having this kind of a relationship with an animal, and I wanted to share a few recent examples, besides our partnership in hawk detection.

A few weeks ago, Boudica woke me up in the middle of the night. I was right in the middle of a nightmare, and Boudica nudged me awake with her nose. I assumed she needed to go outside, though this was very unusual for her. She just doesn’t have to go out in the middle of the night anymore. I thought this must be an emergency! So I got up and headed downstairs to the door. But when I got there, there was no Boudica. I went to find her and found she had simply gone back to her bed. I was confused.

It was then that I remembered my son telling me Boudica had, on several occasions, woke him up when he was having a nightmare. I felt so loved that she did this for me.

In another recent incident, I went out for a walk but left Boudica behind that day because I wanted to go for a very long walk. Boudica can make it on short walks, but Great Pyrenees are more “sit and guard” dogs than long walkers. I told her I was sorry but that I would be back soon and left her in the yard. As I made my way past our house to my neighbor’s house, I saw their dog was outside. Their dog is a beautiful lab, and I adore her. But, doing her job well, she barked at me as I walked by her house.

Then I heard this ferocious, almost hysterical bark from Boudica. She was at a dead run toward the edge of our fenced yard in my direction. It was like her worst fears had been realized. There I was, her helpless human, out in the world with another dog surely about to attack me, and she was not with me! She was beside herself!

Of course, I turned around and went home to confirm with Boudica that I was, indeed, all in one piece. I saved my long walk for later.

These are just some of the little stories of protection she provides. She deeply understands that it is her job to protect the chickens and the ducks, and she does so with focus and determination. I am knocking on wood as I type these words, but we just do not see the kinds of predator attacks others who live in the Maine woods often see because, well, we have a farm dog named Boudica.

I love her to the moon and back, and it’s really cool that she loves me just the same.

***

And just a little update on Ruby and her clutch of eggs. She didn’t budge from her eggs today, though I encouraged her to take a break. I did deliver some bread scraps to her, which she promptly gobbled up–at first with the ferocity of the tiny dinosaur she is, and then with a little more gentleness, which makes me hopeful. She’s on day 3 of 21. Then, her real adventure begins.