Our Dogs

We have 2 Bearded Collies, Bonny and Mayzie.  Bearded Collies, also called Beardies, were developed in Scotland as herding dogs. Bonny is 10, and Mayzie is now 3.  Beardies are  outgoing, bouncy and affectionate creatures, but they aren't for everybody. You have to enjoy brushing long hair, wet beards in your lap, and muddy paw prints in the wrong places at the wrong time. And you HAVE to like bounce. They are affectionately known as 'Bouncing Beardies'. And you will see why when you come for a visit.

Bonny and Mayzie are our welcoming committee. They joyfully greet all visitors to the farm. They patiently wait, looking up the driveway as we work down at the barn. Then erupt into a cacophony of barking as soon as they see a car coming down the drive.

I occasionally like to write stories about what the dogs are up to. The following story recounts one of Bonny's favorite birthdays.

Bonny and Mayzie’s Excellent Adventure 

I woke up on Sunday morning with a start. I couldn’t believe that I had almost forgotten Bonny’s birthday. I hadn’t thought to pick up a gift, not that I usually go overboard when it comes to the dogs’ birthdays, but I do like to do something that makes the day a little special. Bonny is our older bearded collie, and she was turning 9 years old. It suddenly came to me that the thing that Bonny would enjoy most was a hike in the woods. It had been a couple of years since we had gone on an honest-to-goodness hike with the dogs. We are usually too busy hiking with the llamas with our weekend llama trekking business and the dogs tend to get neglected in that department. We were just starting our summer break, having stopped the treks the weekend before due to the hot and humid Virginia summers. Mayzie, our younger beardie was now a year old and had never been on a real hike. So the plan was hatched.

The temperature was supposed to soar to the ninety’s later in the day, so we prepared for an early start. I quickly made a picnic breakfast of bacon and egg sandwiches and orange juice and packed plenty of water and Gatorade. I filled the doggie canteen with fresh water and grabbed the extend-o leashes and we were off. Some friends in the area had told us of a local trail that leads into the Shenandoah National Park and joins a park trail that terminates at the top of the Skyline Drive. The trail is a couple of miles from the house, so we drove to the trailhead and parked the car. We had not looked at the trail map before heading out, but had an impression that the trail was only about a couple of miles to the top. We figured it would take a couple of hours to go up and back and we’d stop along the way and eat our sandwiches.

The trail was beautiful. It is known by the locals as the Browntown Toll Road. It was built a couple of hundred years ago, long before the government claimed the mountain as a National Park, to provide an access for people on the other side of the mountain to ride into Browntown, a bustling little town for the early 1800s. The trail is still in excellent condition. It cuts through dense forest and luckily was well shaded, but we were sweating profusely in spite of our early start. We have a pretty good feel for distances as we hike about 4 miles of trails with llamas every week, so after about 2 miles, we started anticipating connecting with the Skyline drive. We covered another mile or so and were still not there.

The dogs were hot and tired and panting heavily. We were stopping frequently to give them water. They were plodding along dutifully, but the excitement and novelty had worn off. They weren’t as alert and observant as they had been earlier on, so it took us all by surprise when a doe leapt from the woods and crossed the trail no more than 10 feet in front of us. Bonny and Mayzie were instantly on guard and ready to take chase. Luckily we had them on leashes. I wondered briefly why the doe didn’t run down the hill away from us instead of choosing to run right in front of us the way she did

We continued on up the trail about a quarter mile, when Tim pointed at a spot on the edge of the trail and said “Look”. At first glance, there was a sunny patch covered sparsely with low growing ground cover. But as I focused on the area, I detected a round brown hump with small white spots on it. At the other end of the hump were two pointed ears and two very wide eyes. We all had walked within inches of this new fawn and not even the dogs had detected its presence. It was incredibly tiny, and probably only a couple of days old.

I was just saying to Tim that its Mom had given it strict instructions to stay put, and it was doing as it had been told, when it occurred to me that we had just encountered Mom. It became apparent why she had darted right in front of us on the trail. She was trying to lure the dogs away from her baby. We took a quick photo and moved hurriedly on so as not to distress the fawn any more than we already had.

We now guestimated that we had walked about 4 miles and still weren’t at the top. I had not come dressed appropriately for a strenuous hike. Anticipating the heat, I had worn shorts and tennis shoes. The trail in places was very rocky, and the bottoms of my feet were becoming increasingly tender. In other areas, the grass and weeds were a foot tall, and I had spied a goodly amount of poison ivy along the trail. We were debating on whether to turn around or keep going. I was spent, and starting to favor turning around. Tim wanted to see where the trail ended. We speculated that Murphy’s Law was at work, and that if we made the decision to turn around, the trail’s end would be a couple hundreds yards further on. However, if we continued to walk, it would be another mile at least. Finally we compromised. I found a log to sit on, and I stayed behind with the dogs, and Tim went on ahead to find the elusive end of the trail. He found it about a half mile up, and took photos to prove he was there.

The downhill hike was much easier than the going up. It took about 2 ½ hours to climb to the top, but we made it back down in about 1 ½ hours. The dogs were much livelier on the way down, having again found the bounce in their step. As soon as we opened the door to the house, they plopped down on the cool tile floor, and went instantly to sleep, dreaming, no doubt, of chasing deer all through the forest. I’m sure Bonny had a great Birthday.

Reminiscences of a Frisbee Dog

Our first Beardie, Cayce, passed away in 2005. She was a Frisbee champion and I wrote this story in her memory.

In the early 1970s Frisbee was a popular sport on college campuses and wherever young people were gathered. We were a part of that culture. Tim and I married in 1974 and within a month, we had our first pound puppy, some variety of doodle (poodle mix), that we named Solo. As we tossed the Frisbee in the yard, Solo would run back and forth between us, following the disk, until one day she jumped into the air and intercepted one. A Frisbee dog was born.

Solo was a great Frisbee catcher and enjoyed the sport until she passed away at the age of 16. At that time we had just acquired Cayce, our first bearded Collie. Still unaware that there was a budding sport of canine Frisbee in the U. S., we taught Cayce to catch a disc. We bought her a soft Nylabone Frisbee, and it became her obsession. It was in her mouth at all times. We were greeted with it when we came home in the afternoons, and when we went on walks, she insisted on carrying her Frisbee the whole way, regardless of how many miles we walked.

We spent several years in Italy with the diplomatic corps, and Cayce entertained children from countries all over the world. She helped cement one diplomatic relationship that turned into a lasting friendship with a Turkish family. We had invited the Turkish Attaché, his wife and 2 teenage boys to a picnic at a mountain lake, and Cayce came along with her Frisbee. The lake bottom was covered in pebbles, so the water was crystal clear. Cayce, not one to enjoy swimming as a rule, would swim out into the water to retrieve a Frisbee. Nylabone Frisbees, however, do not float, and it would sink to the bottom of the lake. Cayce could see it on the bottom and would dive 4-5 feet to retrieve it. The Turks were enthralled. Not from a culture that thinks of dogs as house pets, our friends later returned to their homeland and got a puppy of their own.

I remember another picnic on the Russian compound in Rome. Families from dozens of countries were in attendance. Cayce entertained the children all afternoon chasing after the Frisbees that they tossed.

As strange as it may sound, many Italians had no knowledge of Frisbees. Many times, while we were on walks, and Cayce was carrying her Frisbee, I would hear someone ask,  “Ha fame?” “Is she hungry? She’s carrying her food dish”. Then we would demonstrate her Frisbee prowess for their amazement.

We returned to the states in June of 1993, and very shortly after, we heard an announcement about the World Championship of Canine Frisbee that was to be held on the Mall. We thought, “What a novel idea” and made plans to attend. We were fascinated. We had never before seen the choreography of a Frisbee routine done to music, and were awestruck. We picked up a pamphlet with a schedule of local events all over the country. There were 4 or 5 events in the states of Maryland and Virginia, and we made plans to attend them all.  At that time, none of the locals were doing a freestyle competition, but we entered in all of the toss-fetch events, and Cayce excelled. She loved catching the Frisbee and reveled in the crowd’s applause. We were hooked. The problem was that there weren’t enough events to satisfy our craving for more.

A couple of years passed and while at an event at the Orange County Fair, I met a young man that was taking names of anyone interested in forming a canine Frisbee club. A couple of months later, we attended the first meeting of the National Capital Air Canines, We became charter members. Later that year, Cayce had the honor of being awarded the first Capital Cup Championship in 1995.

Many years have passed. Cayce never lost her passion for the Frisbee, even at the advanced age of 17. She passed away on May 20, 2005.  We had her body cremated and spread her ashes on the meadow where she loved to play Frisbee. We will miss Cayce very much, but she had an amazingly happy and fulfilled life.

And Then Comes Mayzie 

Mayzie is pictured here at 14 weeks, already earning her keep as marketing representative. She  prefers working in administration for the time being, as the llamas are a bit intimidating to her. 

More photos of our pups. Click on image to see larger version or view additional photos in a slideshow. 

Mayzie as Marketing Rep	"Please, can I go too?"
Posing in the snow	Meeting the llamas
Swimming in the creek	"Help! I've got snow in my feet"
Beautiful Bonny at the beach	Favorite pastime