Where it Began

Often I am asked how I got involved with this sport called sheepherding. My answer is, always has been “I rescued a Border Collie”

His name was Spike, who was ultimately dubbed ‘Sally Ann’. Spike was placed into Border Collie Rescue because he was a biter and a car chaser. Two things neither I nor anyone else could seem to break him of. My first instinct with him was that he needed to do what the breed was intended to do, herd sheep.

He was three years old when we met. He had been in a foster home for 18 months where he had be taught some manners: sit, stay, and come. He hated riding in the car; it was pure torture for him. Another thing he could never seem to get beyond. He had plenty of idiosyncrasies – all Border Collies do – but poor Spike hadn’t been given the best start to his life. People said he had been abused. He hadn’t been beaten, NO SIR!!! He had been given way too much freedom as a youngster, had never been taught right from wrong. Regardless, I thought I could fix him. Just get him working. He loved to herd the basketball, so herding sheep should be a snap! I made some calls trying to find someone to help me get started. The first person I called expected me to commit to three times per week AND drive over an hour each way. Well, that was just nuts! I was not going to drive that much. No way. I called some of my old obedience contacts and finally, got connected with a lady who had sheep and bred Border Collies. She was only 40 minutes away, nor did she expect me to go three times a week. Now we were getting somewhere. I made an appointment with her, loaded Spike into my Honda Civic Hatchback and, we were off to our first sheepherding lesson.