What's it All About Alfie

Dumfries and Galloway Standard March 2009

A dog a dog, my ten foot Hardy (fly rod), for a dog.  These past thirty three years I have always been blessed with having a good collie dog about me.  But now, alas, my luck has run out.  My latest old faithful dog called Dirk, has entered his twilight years and now confines his activity to wagging his tail, appealingly, at the post lady.  She then rewards him, equally faithfully, with a doggy treat from the depths of her pocket.

As all farmers know good sheepdogs are scarce and you’re better to start looking for your next dog before you need one.  My attempt to do just that had left me bruised and shaken two years ago.  I found myself in the hands of a dog dealer whose skill in training sheepdogs was eclipsed only by his skill in training sheep.  I was so impressed with how the sheep could handle the bitch during the well rehearsed little routine that I was happy to part with £1400 for her.  It was only after getting her home that I discovered she was not just so good with my “untrained” sheep.  The guarantee from the dealer to change the dog for another one, if I wasn’t happy, “ran out” even quicker than the bitch so I eventually gave her away, free to a good home. 

Soon after this experience I bought a pup from a friend who lives in the North of England.  So, Dirk’s heir presumptive became a rough haired collie called Alfie who, for the last 18 months, has been nurtured and schooled by my son Gavin.  He’s a likable young tyke but just lately he has begun to develop some weird habits that leave a lot to be desired.  Alfie, that is, not my son.  Just lately he has become quite adept at jumping into the air and catching flies in his mouth or at least I imagine he would be catching flies if there were any to catch.  I think that there is a loose wire in Alfie’s head that just makes contact every now and then. 

Nonetheless, I have persevered with the enigmatic Alfie and I have started to take him to work with me. The reason that I will persevere is because he does possess that vital quality that every modern collie needs nowadays, in that, he will jump onto the quad bike on command.  That is, after he has run round the bike three times in an ever reducing spiral, in a clockwise direction, until finally he mounts the bike from the right hand side… never from the left!

Another, less than pleasing, habit he has is his passion for cocking his leg at just about everything that’s within his reach. I was caught out the other day when I went to see the team of fencers who are working on the farm at the moment.  As I was standing talking to the men I could see that they had become preoccupied by a scene that was unfolding behind me.  Alfie had dismounted from the bike and had ritually anointed the men’s piece bags which were rowed up at the back of the dyke.  In an attempt to diffuse the situation I quipped that I thought he had missed one.  At which point Alfie wheeled round with amazing agility and fired a carefully aimed jet at the one that had been spared.  I told the men that that they were doing a great job and left quickly.  Well, as quickly as I could while I waited for Alfie to do his three laps of the bike before jumping on.

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