A Working Dog

Poem eyes two ram lambs and holds them close to me.  They break to their right and she breaks to her left to cover them, they stop and she stops,  they retreat toward me and she comes up on them slowly. Because the lambs watch the dog so intently, I could easily slip up behind one and catch it by grabbing its rear hock. 

This was a good session for Poem; she did well.  The lambs would have been long gone without her there.  A coming lesson is for her to cut a specific sheep from the flock, a limper for example, and to occupy it so I can grab a hock, sit it down, and examine its feet in an open field—where the sheep graze—and not have to drive the whole flock to a yard near the barn—that could be a mile away on this property—just to catch a single sheep.

I've got myself a dog, when she can help me do that.