The Shepherd
I probably wouldn't have written anything if these prompts from Hornsby Shire Libraries didn't pour into my Fb pages weekly!
'Fetch, fetch,' Zarya capered in a circle, as if trying to catch her bushy tail, and streaked for the stick. This was the best time of the day, her playtime with her master. No matter how tired she was, she enjoyed his undivided attention, jumping, lolloping, and frolicking. An affectionate nuzzling later, she'd cuddle and curl in her straw bed in the wooden kennel, adjoining her master's house by the farm.
The world through her dichromatic vision wasn't colourful; with just two visible colours you might think it was rather stultifying, yet who could tell that given her agility, effulgence, and intelligence. Oh yes, she was a Border Collie - the smartest dog with noblest pedigree that ever walked the earth, genes largely untweaked since they were bred to shepherd sheep, cattles, and other livestock; she had conjectured as much from her master's intonation when he gloated about her. The intonations were all that she needed to gauge and sift her master's instructions and emotions: reprimanding, rewarding, commanding, loving - she never misread him! And neither did her master need more than a glance into those brown eyes, set on either side of a dash of white on black silky fur, to understand her.
This Zarya-master camaraderie was forged slowly over a decade. Jay, the master's son, was little when he picked her up from the local market to have her as a pet; but she grew sooner and faster than the child. With an innate penchant for taking responsibilities, a fiesty Zarya perfected the art of rounding up the flock of sheep her master owned with little training.
Every morning after a munch on a few biscuits she set out with her master to watch the flock while they grazed on swathes of grass. Any sheep that strayed while foraging had to face those glowering glances and angry growls - her arsenal to guide the herd. A midday meal of luscious meat sated Zarya's appetite, and she rested for a while, gazing at the endless moors beyond the steppe. Years had attenuated her frivolity, and of late her eyes had started to rebel for a kip. Sometimes she gave in for a while, only a while, for the moment her neck jerked, she'd spring up on her fours and sprint to play the protector. No bobcat had the effrontery to tread her domain, and she could effortlessly ward off wandering hyaenas, wolves, and jackals off her flock only by flashing her canines - couldn't fail her master on this, could she? But something strange was slowly impinging on her confidence, her legs weren't cooperating as much. Only recently Zarya saved a wandering sheep from an impala by the skin of her teeth; she was out of breath, panting copiously, her tongue dangling to cope up with the stress, and her limbs quivering to keep the balance. Master patted and comforted her, but his heart felt heavy - he knew deep inside he'd need another shepherd dog within a couple of years.
Zarya, however, was basking in the glory of this great feat, ignorant to the fact that impalas were innocuous for the herd. She did not have the sense of judgement to decipher a predator from a passer-by; anything unfamiliar was a threat - a trait that's almost incorrigible and any owner's nightmare. *
At the evenfall, she guided the herd through a cloud of dust along a rutted path, her master at the vanguard, proudly leading them home. As the stars woke to spangle the inky blue sky, she dined on a generous portion of salmon and played with her master for a while before retiring contently, her muzzle dug deep within her tail. The gloaming brought with it restfulness, but Zarya's ears were pricked up, even in sleep, for unheard dangers that lurked like dark shadows outside the farm's palisade.
Come morning, she'd be slobbering over her biscuits, tracing several number eights affectionately round and between his master's feet before setting off on the same routine - the redolence of the ranch beckoning her for another day as a herder. The déjà vu, of course hardly ever touched Zarya when her master was around.
Dona, Sydney, Sep'21
The name Zarya is after the first module of ISS launched on 20th Nov, 1998.
* Resorting to shepherd dogs on farm along with measures like electrifying fences, etc is still a popular trend to keep livestock safe from predation. The farmers don't need to shoot or poison the wildlife to protect the herd, that way ecological balance is maintained. However, at times the dogs end up killing or chasing away harmless animals from large areas of land - an action engendered by their acute instinct of herding. While a corrective training can address this concern, it's not always adapted.
Did you miss the thrill of Barrack Street?
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