Callie the Border Collie

I know she’s smart, it’s in her breed, and I can see it in her eyes. There’s a lot you can tell by looking into the eyes of humankind and beast. I’ve looked into the eyes of both, a lot of different people, and a lot of different animals of all sizes and species. . . .

When my kids were young we had a small little 2.5 acre farm. It was just big enough to have ducks, chickens, hamsters, guinea pigs, a goat or two, a dog, a cat, a very ancient and stubborn Shetland pony, a pair of geese, a runty steer who grew to be the size of Texas, and a few sheep. We must have had a sign that read--”Bring us any animal you find or don’t want anymore!” The reason I know this is simple--that is exactly what happened. We became an unwanted animal home for all comers . . . Back to eyes . . .

Sheep have to be some of the most brainless animals on the planet, at least ours were. Any one of our animals including the Loonies, a group of adolescent ducks imprinted upon and consequently devoted to my daughter would have outscored all of our sheep combined, on any occasion, using any measure. I would look into Dusty’s eyes, the enormous ewe who started it all for any sign of brain synapse, just a flicker of something attached to a brain stem. Nothing. She was like an enormous, hairy, smelly, frozen computer . . . the power cord is plugged in and no activity, nothing’s happening no matter what you do. Not so with Callie. I look into her eyes and wonder if she’s doing mental calculus just for fun.

Yesterday it was pouring down rain here in the Pacific NW. For all of you who don’t live here, it’s true about the rain, just so you know. When you show up here to vacation in July, August, or even September to drink in our magnificent mountains, hiking trails, islands and coastal wonders, you think nothing could be more beautiful. That’s true as well, you just have to live with the other nine months of gray skies and cool rains . . . How would it get to be so green here without them? So, it was raining, as it is now . . .

I took Callie out in the backyard for Frisbee fun and didn’t want to get soaked. I stood under cover of the awning of our back deck and threw from there. She would run like the bullet on legs she is, and catch the Frisbee mid-air. Then she’d run back, putting her front feet up on the deck to be level with me responding to, “Hand it to me!” This went on for a few throws and then she made a request. She brought the Frisbee back in the same way as before, but this time didn’t let go of it when I began to take it from her . . . odd.

Instead of releasing the Frisbee, Callie, Frisbee in mouth, keeping eye contact with me all the way, pranced over to the spot in the yard where I normally throw to her. Then, still looking at me while I stood on the deck, brought the Frisbee back to me as she had before. Again, she brought it up to me and didn’t release it, kept eye contact and pranced over to the spot. Three times she did this. It’s a little embarrassing to admit that it took me 3 TIMES to understand her request . . . “I would like you to throw to me from our usual spot please?” When I finally got it I stepped off the deck and into the rain--what else could I do? Callie rewarded ME by hopping and prancing around in a little happy victory dance . . . “Good girl, you did well!”

OK, I got wet. That’s not what disturbs me really. What I’m a little concerned about this morning is this . . . Is she looking into MY eyes the way I looked into Dusty’s? Hoping for some activity?

That’s what this artist is thinking about today . . .