Today, I crawled under the house to identify and inspect the water leak. It was the first time I had been under the house in decades. Perhaps since the similar event of 1983. What does this have to do with Border Collies? I found three tennis balls neatly lined up along the edge of a foundation pier. Starting with Trouper, we've had a long string of Border Collies. Most are buried around the place. The names and details of their lives have largely faded from my memory. Jean would remember. There was Trouper, Shiner, Lobo, Slick, Rojo, Tess, Woot, and Tip that I recall. I believe Lobo was the offspring of Trouper and Shiner. I was left with Tess and Tip when Jean died. Tess was old, Tip young. We became partial to red Border Collies; Rojo, Woot and Tip were red. Shiner had black fur around one eye and white around the other. Slick had a smooth coat. Tess was a shy female, bought at a sheep herding event near Crawford. She would have no truck with any male dog. All through her life. Though we tried numerous times to breed her. When we got Tess, Rojo was aging and Tess was intended to be the mother of his pups and possibly producing some reds. Tess frustrated Rojo through his remaining years.
Jean acquired Trouper before she met me. She would have known his birthday but I do not. Perhaps around 1970. Before coming to Dale, Trouper had a frustrating youth. Confined to a smallish walled in yard. Constantly tormented by evil squirrels. While Jean was off at college, he had only sporadic human companionship. Trouper, Jean and I came to Dale in 1976. I'm certain that Trouper immediately realized that Dale is heaven on earth. Vast areas to be explored and viewed. Evil squirrels to be chased long distances.
Trouper was highly protective of Jean. But not in an aggressive way. When an unvetted threat would appear, Trouper would slink around to rear. Then rush in silently and bite the threat on the rear of a leg. Then, rush away. We learned to watch for the behavior and averted many instances. He did attack my father, who was a stranger to Trouper and successfully bit him. Much to my embarrassment. I suggested to Jean that it might be time to dispatch Trouper. Of course, she would have none of it.
Jean's father was an avid tennis player. Old tennis balls were readily available. Some time in the first couple of years, every Border Collie decides on his life's work. Trouper chose chasing tennis balls. When ever Jean's father came to visit, he would bring a couple of cans of new/used tennis balls.
I never knew Trouper to voluntarily quit a game of chase the ball. No one learned his limit. He wore out ALL human partners. One strategy for slowing down a game was to throw more than one ball. Trouper quickly learned to carry two balls in his mouth. Which did make each cycle a little longer. Then, three balls. Though I've seen him try, I don't think he ever managed four balls. The only way to terminate a game seemed for the human partner to go into the house. Trouper considered walking across the lawn an invitation to play. He would drop a ball in the path. The partner would either trip and fall or kick the ball. Either was fine with Trouper. A kicked ball is just as good as one thrown. He extended that strategy to lawn mowing. He would drop balls in front a pushed lawn mower. He seemed never to associate mutilated and less chewable balls with encounters with mowers. Any fragment of a mutilated ball is suitable for chewing. One great pleasure in Dale is drinking a beer in a hammock in a hot afternoon, then drifting away in a nap. Not possible unless one first put Trouper in the house or in a truck. Trouper would drop a ball under the hammock and expect it to be thrown. If not thrown, he would poke the partner with his nose from under the hammock. One could just put the ball in the hammock. Trouper would either poke the ball from under the hammock or go find another ball. All our Border Collies played tennis balls. None as avidly as Trouper, though. It was likely Tip that left the three balls under the house to find. Thanks, Tip.
Trouper did teach me that there is no squirrel on earth that deserves to live.
In his advancing years, Trouper became deaf. The deafness did not dull his fear of thunderstorms. One stormy night, he escaped the yard and got out on the road. One of our neighbors ran him down and left him dead or dying on the road. That is also the way Woot met his end though he was only about a year old. Trouper must have been 14 or 15. I believe it was Slick that I did in. We had a coyote problem I hoped to solve with strychnine baited meat. I locked up Slick for a few nights. When the coyotes rejected my offering, I dug a post hole about three feet deep and buried the bait. A few hundred yards from frequently traveled areas. Slick nosed it out, dug it up, and ate it. And died. I guess I should have burned the bait.
All our Border Collies have shown great glee at the prospects of running trucks, tractors, and golf carts. While plowing, back and forth, back and forth, Rojo would work the tractor. Back and forth, back and forth. When completely tired out and hot, he would jump in a tank, cool off, than back to the job after having missed a few tractor circuits. One, I think it was Lobo, could not resist nipping at the front of rolling truck tires. Rolling wheels excited him. He was run over several times but never reformed. He was one of our more expensive Border Collies with hundreds of dollars in vet bills.
3/8/2021
Neighbor Donna yesterday had her car totaled by an uninsured driver who ran a stoplight to get to Donna. Since Donna rejected a trip to the hospital (and chose to come home with a profusely bleeding scalp wound), I related my story. I was run down in the early morning hours in the middle of Arkansas by an eighteen wheeler with an apparently sleeping driver. I was going up to visit Jean while she was living in Rolla Missouri, teaching at University of Missouri at Rolla. Early 1980s, as I recall. I had a Border Collie companion. As I recall, Jean recently found a rent house where she could keep a dog and the Border Collie was to become a long term Rolla resident. One to two years. Sadly, I can not put name to Border Collie. A black and white. Maybe Lobo. "Lobo" was laying in the passenger seat and I had been using a quart of very runny homemade yogurt for road food. On impact, directly from the rear, "Lobo" (and I) bouned around in the truck and the dog ended up in the passenger foot well. Not noticeably injured. He did not respond to questions. Yogurt thrown everywhere. A hundred yards down the road where my Isuzu pickup came to rest, I emirged, seemingly not seriously injured. Amulance and cops soon arrived. I was transported to the Arkadelphia hospital ER where an overnight stay was highly recommended. They found blood in urine but said that was pretty common and to at least have it checked again later. Like Donna, I would have none of a hospital admission. Bad mistake. The Isuzu was drivable and I wanted to get to Rolla and not worry about what to do with the dog. So, a few hours later, I was off. The soreness came up on me unexpectedly. The ~6 hours to Rolla was the very worst road trip I have ever had. I was dead tired, horribly sore all over, unable to find a comfortable driving position and unable to get comfortable enough to nap in the truck. I guess I should have considered a motel room. Eventually, I arrived in Rolla and spent nearly a week on Jean's living room floor. I could not sleep in a bed. The refusal to spend a night in the hospital came back to bite me when negotiating a settlement with the trucking company. National Freight. Self insured so I was dealing directly with the trucking company. I eventually got hooked up with Beaumont lawyer who informed me how much easier it would have gone had I spent a night in the hospital. I had only my own testimony about the week of hell I endured. Had I spent the night in the hospital, it would almost certainly have stretched to several days. I was almost unable to move for that time. The final settlement was only about $30k. National Freight first offered only about $2k; the supposed value of the used truck. I told them if they found and replaced with a new rare diesel, we would be close to a settlement. The pick up truck was a bit crooked but served well on the farm; it was converted to a flatbed.
Tip was our only fence climber and wanderer. He was creative and incorrigible. We would frequently notice Tip's absence and sometimes get calls from neighbors since his collar tag had our telephone number. These calls came from all directions and from as far as two miles away. Early on, Jean and I added "leaners" to the top of our 5' chain link kennel. That was an extension in height of about 18" and leaning into the interior. To discourage climbing. He would never climb when watched. I took some video when he was "confined" to a small 6' kennel out at the guest house. He would take a running leap at a corner and be over with seemingly little effort. I eventually tried tethering him to a small old tire. At least once I had to rescue him on the outside of the kennel dangling by the neck above the ground, the tire on the inside of the kennel. In an attempt to limit the distance of Tip's excursions, I tethered him to tires of ever increasing sizes. Tip became perhaps the world's most fit Border Collie; he continued to drag the tires great distances with seeming enthusiasm.
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