Luke

[Debbie Crowder-BaaramuLuke]

Just signed my contract to do the Bluegrass Novice field pen again, and it brings to mind Luke, who has been properly memorialized before, but here goes...

Luke was my second Border Collie, but he was the foundation of my being able to work stock with dogs. He was a natural dog, had a lovely outrun and fortunately (or unfortunately, as it seems now) didn't require having lots of time on sheep and a knowledgeable trainer/handler to be useful to me. My first dog Calvin was a bright, strong-eyed thing, lots of power and completely lost on me, but Luke was quiet and subtle on sheep, and he could move them easily without giving them the willies. He had his faults, and people who know dogs far better than me wouldn't have wanted him--he had little "style" and his companion job suited him well, loving a good game of toss and chase, even presenting Tom Forrester regularly with sticks which he expected (til the end) that Tom would throw for him to fetch. He didn't, ("I'm not playing with you, dog") but he never gave up.

We got invited to do little informal demonstrations, first with the Lacy's, who bred him, and then on our own, and with Luke, I could take a trailer load of sheep to an event, take them out, turn them loose for a show and then pack them up to go home, never causing a scene or disaster, sheepy mayhem on the general public. Lots of people who never saw a Border Collie work saw Luke and thought he was phenominal, and he was, just a normal Border Collie. I reminded them he was, Border Collie talent-wise, a low-end specimen, but as a dog, he was top flight. He adored children, and could entertain them all, even the little silent ones with troubles. He'd put a toy in the lap of a wheelchair-bound child and watch their faces for a sign of joy (and wait for a possible toss).

Luke got me in the door at trials I'd never be able to enter as a competitor, and without him, I would never have learned sheep. Partnered with Luke, I was invited to work at many trials, and we got to see the world (of Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, West Virgina...). Being called Shepherd by one "boss" almost made me cry with joy...what a beautiful life I had, thanks to Luke. Being asked to work at the Bluegrass had a special meaning, because it's a special trial and because we could introduce ourselves to Vergil Holland, who had Luke's sire, Kip. When we got there, Luke was 11, getting slower due to his arthritis and a recent tooth abscess crisis that kept him in the sidelines for Borders On Paradise in PA, but he was his glorious self in KY, the weather was delightful and he felt great. His job, as the trial progressed, was being being handy to catch and hold the sheep that went over the back fence (a good many did that year) to the back gate of the pen til I could get out and around to let them in. Until we got that job sorted out between us, a group or two went all the way around to the open field. Luke seemed to understand the job and was eager to be useful. A lot of trials, there's little need for him (or any dog) in my work, but when need arises, you better have a good dog. Mostly, a good pen dog waits, quietly, and he was terrific at that too.

Long story short, on a Friday, just so happened to be the 13th, just so happened to be my old late Calvin's birthday, it ended up being Luke's last day. He was resting under the water truck, hanging out with the guys who came up to fill tubs and chew the fat, and he didn't get up in time when the truck left. He was put down in minutes, thanks to a vet being there at the trial, and I was overwhelmed with grief at the loss of my best friend, and guilt for having caused so many fine people so much despair for having to witness that event. I struggled with my sheep-handling life, wondering if I had enough courage to keep at it without Luke, or if I had the desire to do the work at all, given it's association with the death of my daily companion and friend. I still struggle, my current dogs get the job done, but they aren't Luke. I'm still astounded by the sight of a good working dog, and I feel close to heaven being out in a field, surrounded by sheep who count on me to get them safely sorted and cared for, listening to the wind, the whistles, and yeah, even feeling the rain on my face and the slop under my feet. I'm humbled by those days, all because of Luke.

I hope I see him again one day; it was okay to tell him as the life slipped away from him that I loved him, he was such a good boy, but I want to toss him another stick, and see him smile. Now I go to KY to work that spot where he died, all in his honor, because working sheep was his true joy.

Rest in peace, boy...we'll see you in May.

[Sue R]

Deb - I was at that Bluegrass and at the Novice field when your tragedy happened, but I didn't know you or Luke, or just what had happened until after.

 

You were blessed to have him and he was blessed to have you. The really very special ones don't come along very often, do they? We have to enjoy them while we can and learn all that we are capable of learning while they are with us.

 

Love you, and see you in May!

[MaryP]

Oh gosh. How heartbreaking. I can't even imagine your sorrow at such a tragedy. He sounds like a truly special dog. I'm sure you two will meet up again some day so you can throw him another stick.

[PSmitty]

I'm in tears reading that tribute to Luke. What a special, special boy he sounds like. You will see him again, and in the meantime, honoring his memory in KY is beautiful.

[G. Festerling]

Those special ones do change our lives don't they! Never forget!

[2 Devils]

Luke sounded like an awesome dog...

[sea4th]

What a wonderful tribute to your Luke. I felt your loss and pain while reading it. As heartbreaking and gut wrenching saying good bye is, there are those dogs who come into our lives and when they leave, we are never the same - we've changed, through our broken hearts and tears, and are left just a little more complete.

[Allie Oop]

What a tragic tale. Luke sounds like such a wonderful dog. I'm glad you have such great memories of him.