Aussie Sheep Dogs

OZ Sheep Dog Championships

"That's right look at me and do as I direct"

Mister Sheep dog, You can Kiss My

Round Round we must go

“Hey there, are you fellas from Canada?”

The askee is wearing long pants, a long sleeved shirt, work boots and a dusty full brimmed Aussie hat. It’s 35 degrees.

My fire-engine red tee shirt and Jim’s quick dry North Face shirt were unique amongst the weekday crowd at the Australian National Sheep Dog Trials. We are obviously tourists but I have no idea how they picked on Canada.

We join the group under the protective arms of a gumtree and are treated to commentary on the show.

One dog, his handler and three sheep are the basis for the exercise. A horn starts the fifteen minute time clock and the dog hurtles itself full tilt around the arena’s circumference to come up behind the bewildered sheep. The idea, we learn from our new friends, is to move the sheep around and through fences and around posts to finish in a pen. The sheep are supposed to stay in a group, keep moving in the same direction and keep within the course markers.

The sheep don’t know this. It’s the dog’s job to show them. The dog wheels back and forth in an arc behind them. Not too close, not too far. Occasionally all action stops as the dog lets the sheep stand and settle. Finally the three sheep are in the pen. The gate closes to applause from the crowd. Scores are out of 100.

“The highest we’ve had here this week is 93 – from that fella there.” The handler indicated was the person who pegged us for Canuks.

“More luck than skill,” he replied.

Fifty competitors are trialling 250 dogs. It’s an annual event that’s happened in Canberra for 65 years. The queen has even watched.

“I’m surprised how jittery the sheep seem,” I say to the group.

“It’s the breed. Merinos are like that. In New Zealand or Ireland the sheep are quieter. The dogs have to push them – we call them ‘pushers’. Here we call the dogs ‘headers’ because they have to keep them from heading off in their own direction.”

The next competitor had been sitting with us under our tree.

“Nice cast.” Cast is the term for the initial gathering of the sheep by the dog. His wife is pleased – but not for long. One of the sheep takes a run for the arena fence and hits it with such force that the plastic sheeting is torn. The three sheep burst through. The dog darts after them. There are chuckles under our tree as we see the sheep scurrying around the parking-lot with the dog running behind. This turn will not get any score.

About ten minutes later, handler and dog return under our tree. The dog lays at his feet, tongue hanging. As his handler speaks, he rubs the dog’s head.

“He did better with the sheep in the cars than he did out on the paddock. He never let them get away.”