The Shepherd's Sheepdog

I've heard stories of people who have had border collies and Aussies (who grew up without any herding opportunities) and took them to a farm with sheep. I've heard from a couple different people that their dogs seemed to have something snap inside of them. They ran for the sheep and began grouping them together, then cutting them into sections, grouping them again, and herding them to each corner of the field. I imagine that they ran past their owners with passionate eyes and flicked their ears at them as if to say, "just tell me what to do, I got this. I was born to do this!"


Today I went to Ephraim to watch the soccer team that Cini is coaching play. On the way there and back, there were a lot of sheep. And I missed him, intensely. I had a dream that someday I would take Harmboy to a place with a lot of sheep just to see if his Collie instincts would kick in.

I waited too long. I'm so sorry boy.

But it's more than that. There's always a deeper meaning for me, I guess...

I wanted to see him run into an open field with the sheep and immediately know he belonged. He would know exactly where to be to get the sheep to respond to him. He would be respected and would respect the sheep. For once he could feel that he was enough, and that he was in the right place at the right time and it would make a difference, simply because it was he who was there.It would be hard work, but it would just feel right.

I wanted to see him secure with himself for once. Harmboy seemed to spend his every waking moment trying to be noticed, good enough, and lovable. He was hyper-sensitive to the slightest hint of failure, mistake, or frustration. The slightest presser on a leash and he would drop back immediately. He was so concerned with his own "lovability" that when Harmboy heard Gar's name called or even the cat talked about in conversation, he seemed to only hear "NOT Harmboy" and would come quickly to redeem himself from being uncalled. Harmboy had such a big heart to fill up, it annoyed the crap out of everyone who didn't understand the anxiety he always had behind his constant panting. He was seemingly always searching for the right place to be, the right person to be with, and the right time to be good enough to be wanted.

Even at the end, he lay there, unable to get up by himself, yelping, almost constantly at night. "Do you still love me? Are you there?" That last night I spent with him, he cried the second I would stop petting him. His yelp was much like how Kevin Kling described the call of a loon "a desperate plea, 'please, don't leave. You're all I have.'" His deaf ears could not hear me whispering, his eyes were cloudy. He just wanted to be touched, constantly reminded...

I get it, boy.

I want my field of sheep. I've been blessed to have gotten a taste of it at work, I've run in and something in me snapped. I feel I'm where I belong, doing what I need to do. It's hard work but it just feels right. Please, God, let me get accepted somewhere so I can, literally, get into my field, a bigger one where I can reach more sheep. Let me Feed Thy Sheep. It's the only time I feel like I truly belong.

The Lord is my Shepherd, and I am His Sheepdog. A Collie like Harmmers. The sheep follow Him, I'll catch the stragglers. Lead me to "white fields". Just tell me what to do, I got this. I was born to do this!