Northport, Alabama

He is a herding dog, bred to work. We live in the city. He is an unemployed herder.

He picks up odd jobs along the way. Can’t get your kid to stay in the corner? He’s the dog to call. Need to remind the cats who’s really in charge? (Hint: It’s not you.) Want a dishwasher, garbage disposal, paper shredder, taste tester, alarm clock, physical trainer, body guard, and personal valet?

He’s good at offering all these services — unsolicited.

He’s so good at working that I often wonder if he’s ever truly asleep. His nose twitches, his ears prick, his feet peddle, and he woofs softly as he slumbers, no doubt still on the job.

I long to wake him up, tell him he can punch the time card and go home, but then I remember – he already is home, and he works for me, not because he has to, but because it brings him joy.

I wave a hotdog beneath his nose and smile as he cocks an ear and opens his eyes. Casually, I drop the treat onto the floor. Oh no! The horror! The floor is dirty! What if company came?

No worries. Within seconds, the errant meat has been dispatched and order returns to our world.

He settles on the couch again, with a sigh of mixed contentment and disgust. “You sure are clumsy,” he seems to be saying. “It’s a good thing I’m here, because you drop food on the floor all day long.”

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About the image

A sleeping Australian Shepherd offers a closeup view of the dog’s sensitive nose and teeth, Jan. 2, 2010. (Photo by Carmen K. Sisson/Cloudybright)

Posted on January 2, 2010 by Carmen K. Sisson tagged Australian Shepherd, Cowboy, dogs, personal, writing