2018 May June

Jake and Blue
and a Cat Named Kalamzoo
Leah Swatko • Ontario, Canada
My first Aussie was from a working bred litter. The parents were dogs local
people had purchased at the Ohio Congress Quarter Horse Show.
I
knew very little about the breed other than they were very
smart and good farm dogs. I had met one Aussie in my life
prior to this; it was a dog who worked in a traveling side
show a young man operated out of his cube van. He was a
naturally gifted trainer and had a small collection of mixed breeds
and the Aussie. They performed in parking lots for handouts. He
had developed an amazing collection of behaviours each dog had
mastered. Seeming to be overly gifted in doing basic mathematics,
dancing and jumping rope, there was no limit to what they could
do and all seemed to know how to play the crowd to get the most
money into the tin. All worked on simple cues, a finger flick to
end the barking of an addition
answer. Changes of how the
questions were asked told the
dog what was expected. It was
all quite interesting to watch
the subtle language going on
that the spectators never caught
on to. I lived North of Lake
Superior in a small town named
Wawa, which means Big Goose
in Cree. It was late fall of 1974,
and his truck had broken down and was outside my house on the
road, so like all strays I brought him home and he spent the winter
camped in my back yard. I got to know his one Aussie who he
declared as the smartest dog he had ever had. He had found the
dog as a pup wandering the alleys of Calgary maybe left behind by
accident when the rodeo left town. He took the pup in and he was
soon the corner stone of his traveling act. At one time I had a picture
of the dog sitting up wearing a cowboy hat, sunglasses and with
a lit cigarette in his mouth. He was a red merle with blue eyes, A
moderate dog that would suit the ASCA breed standard even today.
Back to my first Aussie; it was Christmas Eve 1982, a friend
and I went up the road to look at a litter of puppies. They were born
around November the 28 th so were only just four weeks old. My
daughter had asked for a puppy and I wanted a young dog, too, as
my two German Shepherds were getting on in years.
My pup was named Jake
by my oldest daughter.
The dog was to be hers, but Jake
was glued to me and was my dog.
When we arrived at the farm, the pups and their mom were
outside in -20c temperatures under the steps with no shelter and
nothing more than a blanket. The mom was a blue merle and was
doing her best to keep the pups warm. The farmer’s wife had
demanded they be put outside as they were making the house smell.
I asked the farmer if he was going to put them in the barn as it was
supposed to get bitterly cold that night, -35c and more in the wind.
I said these pups won’t last long out here it is too cold for them.
His answer was non-committal but he thought he probably would
put them in the barn in an empty corner with some straw.
We looked over the pups and I chose a bi sable red merle. I
only identified her actual colour
latter as I learned more about
the breed. She had a brown eye,
the other was china blue, some
white trim but no copper, and
she seemed friendly and was
so tiny and happy to be held in
my arms – far warmer, I’m sure,
than in the ice and snow.
My friend selected a light
brown pup. We paid for our
pups and we both chose to take them home. I had a strong feeling
that we might have saved their lives considering the weather.
My pup was named Jake by my oldest daughter. The dog was
to be hers, but Jake was glued to me and was my dog. She followed
me everywhere on her little baby legs. She was tiny, more the size of
a two-week-old puppy. She took to warm goat’s milk and softened
food like a ravenous animal. She was so hungry she quivered as she
ate to the point I had to take the food away before she burst. She
was a confident pup, not afraid of anything, was house-trained in
no time – seriously, she never had a single accident in the house.
She dutifully followed me about the farm as I did chores, feeding
the horses, and goats in the barn. Tending to the geese in their pen,
one day when she was closer to four months of age, she made the
mistake of following me in to the goose pen with in seconds the
gander had picked her up by the scruff and one ear. She screamed
AUSSIE TIMES May-June 2018 91