It was about this time, during Jocks training that I was beginning to wonder if the dog was deaf. He didn't appear to be, it always seemed to have 'selective deafness'. He'd respond beautifully to everything whilst out in play, and yet couldn't hear a thing when working on sheep. Maybe it shouldn't be called selective deafness, it should be called 'sheep deafness'.
Suddenly Jock didn't know how to come to me, and apparently he'd forgotten his own name. I didn't do as many do and revert to yelling. I tried to remain patient. I knew he wasn't deaf, and I knew that he had learnt his name early on.
About this time I started calling for help. Through my searching I found a wonder mentor couple, one of which told me that sometimes, at this age, the dog is -a waste of fur"- and I wholeheartedly agree!
Jock hadn't forgotten anything, he just didn't see why he should listen to what I said, when doing as he pleased was soooooooo much more fun!
Rather than fight a losing battle, I gave up on 'sheep training' and went back to play.
For hours upon hours I would play with Jock in the paddock. He would tear around me at a million miles an hour, scare birds off his patch, chase the occasional hare, and then come and sit next to me for a nap. We had many conversations during this time, which usually started with "Jock, spit that out, you don't know where it's been". He found this time an absolute blast, and I believe it really strengthened our relationship.
One thing I always tell people when they ask me how I got Jock to be so responsive is:
-"He's my mate, my buddy, my friend. We developed a relationship built on trust early on in the piece, and he knows that if he's worried, I'll be there to back him up. I've never let him down".
Saying that, I have laughed at him a couple of times though.
One such time was when he decided to go tearing off after my (then) 15 year old son. He bolted down the paddock without a care in the world, only to not watch where he was going and face plant into the concrete drain that is about 3 foot deep. Fortunately there was no water rushing through it at the time, but from my point of view it looked funny.
Here's this pup going at full pelt down the hill and suddenly he just disappears. When I walk down to him he looks up as if to say 'who put this here?', and then 'ummm little help?'.
With only his pride a little dented, I help him out of the drain and he goes tearing off again, doing zoomies around the paddock, being careful to give the drain a very wide berth.
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