and hoping that the wood shavings don't clog up my computer. The barn cats are prowling around with evil intentions and I have to keep one eye on them while I type.
|Gene parting one out from the rodear. I was still waiting patiently.|
First I ambled nonchalantly down the arena until I was within striking distance, and then I went into my dreaded Border Collie Stalking Mode and those babies froze in fear, not knowing which way to turn. Next they received a dose of "cow dog in your face" which made them take off like a covey of quail. I was just getting ready for pursuit when he-who-ruins-all-my-fun shouted "DOWN" and I hit the dirt on my belly. I waited patiently for the "OK" command which means I can get back into the action and it finaly came when the calves slowed down to an insolent crawl. A few nips at their heels brought them back into line and after that it was just a matter of follwing them up the arena and directing their attention to the open gate of the cow pen. They looked back over their shoulders once, realized that I was still on duty and went into the pen like good little calves. Mission accomplished. Of course Bob and Bets both showered me with GOOD GIRL accolades.
For your edification I've included a couple pictures of the clinic from my perspective.
|What a lovely view.|
|Bob observing my flawless technique.|