Shepherding and Chantal

The next story I want to share with you turned out to be one of those moments,
that when you look back at it,
you realise your life might have taken a very different course, had things not gone the way they had.

 Me shepherding on the heather.

So, there I was, every day on the heather or  in the forested areas of the nature park the Maashorst in the Netherlands. A few trusty border collies, Chantal my livestock guardian dog at my side and about 4-500 sheep. Every morning, I would take the sheep from their night corral and walk them to the area  that would be grazed that day.

Djan, making sure the sheep stay off the cycling path on a winter day.

Some days, I  was closer to a cycling path or a route where people liked to walk,
other times it was a little more off the beaten track.

Never, in all my life have I ever felt scared while out in the bush.
Not in South Africa, not in the Netherlands and so far, not in Canada.

I have though about how inconvenient it would be if I broke my leg or something silly like that while out shepherding. 
Even then, it never bothered me.
In those days we did not have  cell phones, so if something happened, I would have to wait until someone missed me enough, to come looking for me,
or in a worse case scenario,  that the sheep would drift away and end up in someone’s yard and then the irate owner  would come looking for the shepherd…

Most of the time, when you are out shepherding you meet people walking the dog, or cycling, or having a family picnic.
Most people  would stop by for a  chat with me.
If I was given a dollar for every time people asked me “how many sheep I had”, I would be a rich girl.

I used to get quite a few visitors to the flock.

I had “regulars” who would come and visit with me, often older retired men, who remembered an era of more shepherds,
and cultivating the heather regions after the second world war in order to produce food.
They would reminisce of the old days, and I loved to hear their stories.  We would often share an apple with each other, while we chatted away.

A jogger  on his way, would give a quick wave and keep going,
kids would want to run around and chase the sheep in a million directions,
the women, I met,  would often ask me more personal questions things like; don’t I get bored, or how do I managed to keep my house clean when I am always shepherding?
 Men preferred to talk about the more technical details; asking questions such as how long an area takes to graze, or what happens to the lambs?

I would have the occasional negative reactions; someone being difficult about putting their dog on a leash, or being impatient to be able to cycle past the sheep; however those were few and far between.

On a nice sunny day, I was shepherding in a remote area of the park. This was a place where you did not just bump into someone, it was definitely away off the beaten track. A great area to go if you did not really feel like answering questions from the public. The area was wooded, with quite a lot of grass growing under the tall trees. The area was slightly undulating. 
 I was sitting down reading a book, when Chantal warned me that someone was approaching. I looked around and saw a man watching the flock at about 300meters away. This was not unusual and so I did not mind him too much. He stayed quiet some time, just leaning up against a tree watching.

This is the part of the forest where my story took place.
Here Djan works the sheep to me.

The next day, I headed off to the same area with my entourage.  At about 11 am, Chantal stood up and warned me that someone or something was in the area. I looked around and spotted the same man as the day before. He was a little closer now and was once again just watching. I felt a little creeped out, as most people would either watch and move on, or watch and then come over for a  chat.  He disappeared into the woods.
Sometime later, he reappeared again in another spot.
He never approached me, just watched. I could recognise him in his light tan leather jacket and jeans. Chantal would be giving a low growl and  the odd woof.
He spent a good part of the day in the area.
I started to pay more attention to him and where he was.

That evening I mentioned him to Eric and he suggested I phone and chat with the police. I did that but they said as long as nothing happened and he was not doing anything illegal, there was not much they could do. I realised they were right, he was doing nothing wrong just watching the sheep eat.

Day three; back in my corner of the woods. Chantal was on her lead by my side. Three collies with me, spaced out watching the sheep graze. I was sitting on a little stool attached to my backpack. Chantal sat up and rumbled. I looked up and saw the same man walking purposely towards me.

I knew, and felt that something was going to happen.

I stood up as I felt a bit vulnerable sitting down.
Of course alarm bells were going off in my head,
yet my rational brain was saying, “perhaps he just wants to chat about the sheep, or maybe he wants to say hi.”

As he got closer, I felt the tension; I kept Chantal close to me, my hand on her collar. I was standing, he was striding down that bush path, he went on past me, kind of nodded his head at me,
 I breathed a sigh of relief,
when all of a sudden, he turned and grabbed me.
Within a blink of an eye, Chantal lunged and bit him on his arm.
He pulled lose, started screaming and yelling at me, about me having an aggressive dog, all the while running away from me.

The level of commotion was high, I was shaken, Chantal was hysterical trying to drag me after this man, the collies, in the excitement were running around trying to gather up the sheep. I calmed my thoughts, stopped shaking and asked myself what had just happened?

I moved the sheep to a more public spot, and kept a look out all day. I never saw the man again. That night I spoke with the police and they would keep an eye out for him.

I do often wonder about the “what ifs”, what if I did not have Chantal with me that day?
What if she did not bite him, what would have happened? I also wonder if that man was just watching me for a few days, sizing up the collies, sizing up Chantal, waiting for an opportunity.

I realised then, that if things really did turn nasty, I could not count on the collies protecting me, they are just too invested in the sheep.
Having a free range guardian for animal predators is great, but it sure is nice to have one right with you,
next to you,
on a lead, at the end of your arm,
 to keep the scariest predators of them, all at bay.

Eric, me and Chantal.
Photo M Laarhuis

 And, even now, I still love being out in the bush, alone, with a flock of sheep, my collies and a sarplanianc by my side.

Happy Easter

Hope you find lots of eggs,

just like we do,
everyday.

Chantal, another story

One of the very few photos of Chantal and I back in the mid nineties.
Photo by M.Laarhuis

Except for the very first story about our first livestock guardian dog, Chantal,
none of the other stories will be in any form of chronological order.
I do not "do" chronological orders as I do not know myself,
where I am on that whole timeline thing,
 I need facebook to help me out with that.

OK so, a while back in my blogs I hinted about a story that I would share with you;

how some legends talk about the sarplaninac's ability to "feel" the predators approaching
though the vibrations in the earth.

Many breeds of LGD have traditionally had their ears cropped to prevent them being ripped and torn during a confrontation with predators.

  Both ear-cropping and the use of spiked collars were described as a defence against wolves by Jean de la Fontaine in Fable 9 of Book X of the Fables, published in 1678.

However some cultures believed in doing the one ear crop.
Generally the sarplanianc was not cropped, however in some areas a one ear crop was done.
Legend surrounds this practise
and the belief is that they could better "tune in" to predators this way.

Now, other legends say that some sarplaninac can "feel" the vibrations through the earth when predators approach the flocks.
Now, I know that elephants have these abilities.

I do not know whether or not dogs or sarplaninac can "feel" this,
we all know that they have excellent scenting abilities,hearing and vision.

So, to get to my story;
while out shepherding our sheep, Chantal would be on a lead with me.
I did not want her chewing some poor hikers sweet poodle.
So, when we were out and about with the sheep, I kept her on a lead with me.
Should things go haywire with some killer dogs, then all I needed to do was slip the lead.

This did not happen often as regular walkers and joggers in this area knew about her,
and if they did not,
within a few minutes she greeted them in a typical sarplaninac fashion...
So, her reputation and respect grew and people would always put their sweet pooch on a lead while passing through and around our flock.
And, that was exactly what out goal was,
operant conditioning of the public that used this area!
Remember, these are public lands and I could not have her chasing off visitors to this area.

Now, on quiet days, the flock would be spread out at quite a distance grazing.
I could often be found sitting on a bank or higher vantage point overlooking the grazing sheep.
A collie or two or three would be waiting for a signal from me to be able to go and tuck in the corners of the flock.
Or, if the sheep crossed "the line" to be able to push them back.
Chantal would be sleeping, like every self respecting guardian dog should,
next to me.
Every now and then she would lazily open one eye, cock her head, glance around and would continue on with her sleep.
However, as soon as she spotted something out of place (all livestock guardians are "order nerds"),
or see a dog, or jogger, she would give such a low level rumble growl that only I could faintly hear it or feel it through the lead.
She would stare intensely at the direction where she saw something.
As the people or dog approached closer her level of growling would intensify.
The closer they came the more her body language changed.
From a soft rumble while lying down, she would sit up, eventually stand, going from a rumble to full on barking.

Grazing sheep on the Maashorst, Netherlands

As the people or dog passed by, she would quieten down and would go back to snoozing next to me.

Now, on more than one occasion she would seem to me to have it all wrong.
We would be sitting under a tree, I would be reading a book, the collies will be hoping for a sign from me and Chantal would be snoring away.
When Chantal would suddenly lift her head, stare very intensely into the distance, giving her trademark growl.
She would keep staring at a point in the distance, sometime sitting up to get a better look.
I would look, sometimes I had binoculars with me and I would gaze at the spot in the distance, and would try and see what had caught her attention.
Nothing, no movement, no sound, nothing that I could detect.
I thought she was seeing ghosts.

Sometimes she would lay down again but every few moments she would look again and mumble somewhat.
This could go on for at times as long as 15-20 minutes.
The distance that she would be looking into could range anywhere from 500m to over 1 km away.
Always, and I mean always, if we hung around long enough, she would always be right.
Eventually, either a cyclist, or a hiker, or someone walking the dog would  appear from the exact direction she would be staring at.

I could not believe this, that she "knew" that someone was coming from that direction.
Sure, perhaps she smelt them at that distance, but I checked for wind direction more than once.
Sometime people would approach from different directions at the same time and she would inform me about both.
Never, did she get it wrong and I was amazed at her ability to know that someone was out there, even though they were more than a kilometer away and certainly not visible.

In her manner of growling and barking ( she was not a big barker),
I could distinguish friend from stranger. My friend Toril would often come and visit me while shepherding.
Chantal would warn me that someone was approaching, yet her look was one of recognition.
Her demeanour was softer and more welcoming.

I could easily doze off to have a nap, and my early alert system would let me know if someone or something was approaching the flock.
She knew what her job was and what we needed her to do.

Perhaps, the legends where right,
perhaps she would feel the vibrations through the ground as someone started approaching us.