Story of a stockdog from the 1930s

[Alchemist]

My mother and father were visiting recently for my older son's high school graduation. The recent thread about the "origin of the term 'Border collie'" prompted me to ask my mother, who spent her early years on a farm in Wyoming, where sheep (among other things) were raised, to relate some of her experiences to me. She told me about "Rex, the Wonder Dog". I asked her to write it down. She did, and got her uncle Jonathan (now 95) to check her facts. With her permission, I'm sharing it, as well as the photo of her taken with Rex back in 1937 (when she was six years old). I apologize for the length; I thought it was an interesting peek back into farm life (and the life of a Border collie, or at least Borderline collie) back during the Great Depression. I've edited it to eliminate the first person and to clarify some of the relationships; otherwise the story is that of my mother (now 79) and her uncle.

 

 

Rex, the Wonder Dog

 

In the summer of 1930, after my mother’s Uncle Jonathan (Davis) had polio the previous fall, his parents were worried about him working on the farm, as one arm was still very weak. Uncle Jonathan would have been 15 years old at the time. My mother’s parents (my great-grandparents) thought the best help he could be that summer was to take the cattle down to Dry Creek and herd them along the sides of the Creek. That was in the days of “Open Range” and one could find sheepherders herding large bands of sheep around on the open land.

 

One day Uncle Jonathan decided to leave the cattle to fend for themselves while he rode his horse home for lunch. Suddenly, a little brown dog appeared from no place and got in front of the horse. Uncle Jonathan got down and patted the dog, then got back on the horse. The dog got in front of the horse and began whining. Then the dog began moving in the opposite direction and Uncle J. thought, “That dog wants me to follow it,” so he turned the horse around and followed the dog about a mile. There he saw a hole in the ground and heard puppy noises coming from in the hole. Uncle J. was a little hesitant about putting his head in the hole, but the dog got in the hole and came up with a puppy. She laid the puppy on Uncle Jonathan’s feet. He picked up the puppy and put it in front of himself on the horse, then headed for the farm, with the mother dog following.

 

When he got home he fed the mother, who was very, very thin and seemed as if she was about starved to death. She and the pup both ate every morsel of the food put down for them. The Davis family suspected that the brown dog had originally been owned by one of the many sheepherders who had tended sheep on that section of open range.

 

They didn’t need any more dogs on the Davis farm, but my mother’s Uncle Ned, who was farming in Cowley and also working at the sugar beet factory, had been looking for a dog. He took both dogs to Cowley, and his son, Ned Jr. named the puppy “Pie Face”. The name given to the mother has been forgotten. She and her pup were so bright that everyone in Cowley knew about them. The next time the bitch became pregnant there was a waiting list in Cowley for one of the pups.

 

It was probably the next year when Ned needed someone to plow his land and Uncle Jonathan went over to do that. The brown mother dog had another litter that spring, this time with just two pups. One was brown like the mother, the other black and white. Uncle Jonathan brought both the puppies home. He took the brown dog and named him “Buster.” The other dog became my mother’s mother’s (Jonathan’s older sister’s) pet, and she named him “Rex,” which means “King” in Latin.

 

Buster was just an ordinary dog, who, unfortunately, never displayed even the slightest ability to help herd the livestock. However, he soon showed an unusual ability to ride a horse. Whenever Jonathan saddled his horse “Beauty,” Buster was always right there. He would run along beside the horse, often looking up at Jonathan, and occasionally would leap into the air and touch his nose to Beauty’s. Horses normally won’t tolerate this kind of affection from a dog, but Beauty seemed as fond of Buster as he was of her.

 

One day after Jonathan climbed into the saddle, he dropped his strong left arm down beside the horse, and Buster quickly leaped into the extended arm, and with just a slight assist from the rider, the dog was soon seated behind the saddle. From that moment on, that became Buster’s spot, and Beauty didn’t seem to mind one bit having him on her back.

 

Sadly, after living for only few months on the Davis farm, Buster one day crossed into the path of a moving car, and was run over and killed.

 

Rex, unlike his brother, soon displayed so many amazing abilities, that the entire family thought of him as the “Wonder Dog.” He was black and white and looked almost like a purebred Border Collie.

 

Rex could not only bring in the sheep when asked, or the cows when asked, but knew the names of the cows and could bring in only one when called to do so.

 

It was probably the first year that Rex lived on the Davis farm when there was an unusually bad winter. Out on the open range the next spring there were dead sheep all over the ground. A group of men called “Pelters” came in. They would skin the sheep for their pelts. These men smelled pretty bad, as you can imagine.

 

One time some “Pelters” showed up at the farm and asked for food, probably eggs and potatoes. My mother's Grandma Davis started down the cellar to get what they needed. One of the men started to follow her and Rex got in front of him and growled. The man asked, “Will this dog bite?” and my great-grandmother answered “He will if I ask him to”. The man did not follow her down the cellar.

 

That summer, 1933, my mother’s father was in charge of putting in the first all year round road into Jackson Hole. My mother’s family was then living in something that looked like a sheepherder’s wagon, but a little larger – “and I mean only a little larger”.

 

One day my mother was out in front of the wagon playing with Rex. She was two and a half years old at the time. Her mother heard the sound of wild horses heading toward the wagon. Before she could rescue my mother, Rex had placed himself between the horses and my mother and had split them so one half went on one side of me and the other half on the other side.

 

Needless to say, from that time on my grandmother was extremely fond of that dog. This is not to say that the dog was perfect in every way. He did get too close to some porcupines that summer and my grandfather had to pull the quills from his nose while my grandmother held Rex down.

 

My mother doesn’t remember the horses but she does remember how terrible she felt at seeing the quills pulled out of Rex.

 

That next winter my grandmother took Rex with her when the family moved to Basin. Twice Rex disappeared and then showed up shortly afterwards on the farm twenty miles away. After the second time, my grandmother left Rex on the farm.

 

The neighbors on the next farm had a bull that broke out of its pen one day and came over to the Davis farm. My great-grandfather told Rex to “Get that bull out of here”. Rex had no trouble getting the cows to mind him, but he and that bull went round and round a number of times until Rex leaped up and grabbed the bull’s tail just where it emerged from his body. Rex then slid down the tail, neatly cutting it in two. The bull gave a mighty bellow and headed for home. When Rex had that bull in its pen he came back looking mighty pleased with himself.

 

My great-aunt Melba was teaching in Worland when she married my mother’s Uncle Jonathan. Uncle J. would pick her up on Friday nights so they could spend the weekends together on the farm. One night Aunt Melba was sitting on Uncle Jonathan’s lap. He was in a big rocking chair they still have. Rex looked at Aunt Melba and then jumped up on Uncle Jonathan’s lap. He put his back to Uncle Jonathan and with his legs he pushed Aunt Melba off Uncle J’s lap. From that time on Aunt Melba and Rex were jealous of one another.

 

In that same neighborhood, there was a farm that my great-grandfather’s sister and her husband had originally owned. Their last name was Pegg.

 

The man that bought it had two sons, Henry and Reuben. When Reuben got married, the family purchased the Pegg place for him. Shortly after his marriage, however, Reuben decided to leave the farm that had been purchased for him, so his brother Henry took it over. For several years Henry farmed the Pegg place and was paying off what was owed for buying the farm.

 

After a few years, though, his brother showed up again and took over the farm. That fall, Reuben informed the Peggs that he just didn’t have the money to make his land payment. Since the country was suffering through a depression and money was scarce for most everyone, the sellers let the matter slide. After that Reuben just quit paying any money to the Peggs. After missing several land payments, though, one day the struggling farmer went into town and bought himself a new Chevrolet sedan. When the Peggs learned that (despite never having the money to make any farm payments) their buyer was able to purchase a brand new automobile for himself, they were less than pleased.

 

Thus, one day Uncle Jonathan’s relatives, his Aunt George and her daughter Bessie Pegg, showed up at the Davis farm. Aunt George had hired a lawyer in town and was going to repossess the farm. Disregarding the fact that he had missed making several payments, Reuben evidentially thought my mother’s uncle had something to do with this. He decided the only reason he was being kicked off the farm was so that the Peggs could rent, or sell the farm to their nephew. He quit speaking to Uncle Jonathan and when they happened to meet on the street in small town of Greybull, several times he made quite a show of angrily crossing the street just before they came face to face. This was surprising, as the families had been friends for years. Years earlier, when Reuben’s father needed help with night lambing, Jonathan stepped in even though he was still quite young. The family always said Jonathan had been the best helper they’d ever had around their sheep shed.

 

At the time he lost his farm Reuben had a bitch that seemed to be always in heat. Uncle Jonathan called her a whore of a dog. Rex seemed to enjoy sniffing around that bitch. Reuben told some of the neighbors that if he ever found Jonathan’s dog on “his property” he’d shoot him on sight. Then, a short time before Reuben completed his move into Greybull, Rex, the wonder dog, disappeared quite mysteriously. Uncle Jonathan always said he thought Reuben shot the best dog the Davis family had ever owned.

[Gloria Atwater]

What a touching and wonderful story, as well as a remarkable snapshot of another time. What a pity poor Rex disappeared so untimely and tragically. Thank you for sharing your mother's musings. He looks like a terrific dog.

Cheers ~

 

Gloria

[ejano]

One time some “Pelters” showed up at the farm and asked for food, probably eggs and potatoes. My mother's Grandma Davis started down the cellar to get what they needed. One of the men started to follow her and Rex got in front of him and growled. The man asked, “Will this dog bite?” and my great-grandmother answered “He will if I ask him to”. The man did not follow her down the cellar.

 

What a beautiful photograph...and a wonderful story of the flexibility of the Border Collie on the farm, from working stock to protecting the family. He was a dog deserving of his name.

[geonni banner]

Wonderful! Thanks for sharing the story and the picture!

[Sue R]

That's a fantastic story, even though it's a sad ending - thank you so much for sharing!

[sweet_ceana]

Thank your mother and uncle for sharing Rex's and their story with us. I really enjoyed it.

[WildFlower]

Thanks so much for sharing!

[Smalahundur]

Interesting story, I enjoyed reading it. A memorable dog indeed.

[Stoga]

Thanks for sharing. What a treasure that photo is...

[Sue R]

Looking at that photo again makes me wonder if that dog could just have easily been an Aussie as a Border Collie, or a cross. Just a thought.

[Alchemist]

Looking at that photo again makes me wonder if that dog could just have easily been an Aussie as a Border Collie, or a cross. Just a thought.

 

I'm sure it's completely within the realm of possibility that Rex had as much (more?) Aussie or English shepherd in him as Border collie. That's why I referred to him as a stockdog, and as a Border or "Borderline" collie. His mother was essentially a rescue, remember, so if she knew what breed or breeds she was, and who she mated with - she wasn't telling. (Did anyone maintain pedigrees on stockdogs in Wyoming during the Depression?)

 

I do know that she also told me about her experiences during the 1940s as a shepherdess. I may post that story and photo sometime later. No dog in the photo, alas. But she did tell me that in the 1940's Wyoming, everyone knew that Border collies were superior at working sheep. They paid a premium for them. The mother dog they used (in the 1940s) for working sheep, she said, was a Border collie. She also said the mother dog was great at working the sheep - much better than her pup was. Of course, I asked how old the pup was, and when she said "six months", I said aw, just a baby still - can't judge them at that age!

 

I remember visiting that farm myself in the early 1960s as a young girl and falling in love with their farm dog. I don't know how much Border collie was in her, either, but I certainly remember her as being of a Border collie/Aussie/English shepherd type. It was the beginning of my love affair with Border collies...

[Sue R]

Oh, please, do write that up - sounds like a great story even without a photo!

[kelpiegirl]

As someone who adores hearing factual stories like this, BIG APPLAUSE!!!!!!!!!!

[Jeanne Joy]

Here is a very similar type dog also from the 1930's in Colorado:

 

http://allaboutaussies.wordpress.com/2009/...ds-in-colorado/

 

If you are interested in history and sheep ranching in general you might enjoy this:

 

http://stockdogsavvy.wordpress.com/2010/04...sheep-ranching/

[Jeanne Joy]

Edited to remove the double post.

 

 

[Alchemist]

Here is a very similar type dog also from the 1930's in Colorado:

 

http://allaboutaussies.wordpress.com/2009/...ds-in-colorado/

 

If you are interested in history and sheep ranching in general you might enjoy this:

 

http://stockdogsavvy.wordpress.com/2010/04...sheep-ranching/

 

Jeanne, thanks so much!!! I'll be sure to share these with my mother. She's a history buff (history major in college), now living in Colorado (and making plans to attend the 2011 Finals). She and my father own a place next to Gore Creek, so that story will have especial interest for them.

 

Interesting that even back then, at least some Aussies had bobtails. (Or am I assuming incorrectly that if they had short tails then, it reflects how they were born?). I'm not sure that proves anything about Rex, though; I know that even today not all Aussies are born with short tails, though some are. Still, I wouldn't be in the least surprised if Rex had Aussie in him (or if his recent forebears' bloodlines also made their way into the bloodlines of modern Aussies).

 

I'll have to ask my mother if she can locate any more photos of the farm dogs from that era; it may take a while, though, as she's away from home at the moment. I remember from visiting the farm cats with bobbed tails - but not dogs.

[PennyT]

By that date and with that appearance, if it was billed as border collie, it 99% sure was. No more landrace collie; that's a border collie.

 

Penny

[Alchemist]

My mother just sent me two more photos of "Rex, the Wonder Dog"

 

The first is dated 1933. My mother says "This picture was taken early in the morning in 1933 in Hoback Canyon, WY. [Her father] was working [building] the road into Jackson Hole. I've never, ever, ever, been a morning person and was shielding my eyes from the morning sun. You can see how Rex has his head between me and the drop off, protecting me from falling off the sharp drop off from the trailer we were living in onto the ground."

 

 

I'm not sure of the date of the second. It shows my mother's grandmother (my great-grandmother), and my mother's cousin, along with Rex. My mother adds "You can almost see that Rex had a bob tail."

 

 

Oho - that stockdog, that "Borderline" collie, is now sounding a LOT more like an Aussie than a Border collie, especially considering the history that Jeanne provided! Sue, you've got good eyes! (Though I have to confess that although my mother had described him as a Border collie, as soon as I saw the first photo I thought "hm, looks like some English shepherd or Aussie in there as well...").

[Jeanne Joy]

Yes, he resembles one too. You are fortunate to have such great pictures and equally wonderful memories. Thank your mother for digging them out for us to see.

[Sue R]

Not good eyes, I'm sure, but his head is very reminiscent of our old MacLeod, a working-bred Aussie who was our farm dog for many years. One tip-off to me in what you said was the Rex's protective nature, which sounded just "so Aussie" to me. That's one thing our Mac had in abundance - a strong sense of family and property, and his right and responsibility to guard it. I never felt uneasy about our daughter wandering over our farm (or neighboring farms) or left at home for a few hours with Mac as her companion. He would have died before anything bad happened to her.

 

We had men working on our roof one week, one being the father of one of Laura's friends. I made sure to introduce them to the dogs, especially to Mac, and did so every morning. Fine, no problems with the dogs. That is until the Friday, after these same three men had worked on the roof every day that week. Lisa and I went for a ride and Laura stayed in the house to watch a video, and we left Mac with her because it was hot.

 

Harry, the leader of the crew, needed to use the phone to call for one of his men to bring something for the work. He knocked on the front door. Mac, who was politely friendly all week when I was home, quickly let Harry know that he was on guard and Harry was not welcome at the door or any other entrance to the house while I was gone. Harry had to sneak around the back of the house and call at a window to get Laura to pass hm the phone (days before cell phones, you know).

 

As soon as Lisa and I got back home, Harry was welcomed at the door by Mac. Smart dog, as are all Aussies that are bred to think and work. Your Rex looks so like Mac did in his prime. Assured, handsome, alert, ready for anything.

[SS Cressa]

Thanks for sharing. Awesome story!