Sox is slowly learning not to jump up. She much prefers to have her tummy scratched. Afterwards she sometimes forgets about jumping up, sometimes tries to fit that in too. She is part Blue Heeler, part Great Pyrenees, part Tennessee farm dog (=?), with (it has been suggested) some Belgian Malinois mixed in somewhere.
|Belgian Malinois puppy (sheepdog)|
The dark muzzle is what draws this comparison. There is something of Buddy here too (the dog I inherited from Joe). There has to be a local canine genealogy project here! The litter Sox came from had at least two fathers, with some pure white Pyrenees siblings.
Yesterday Bob told me that litter, which, with their ‘trailer trash’ mother had gone feral, had killed his llama. He and Zack had managed to shoot all but two of the six. At one point he feared they would attack him. What is the place of the pack of wild dogs in our world? By what accident did Sox escape that fate?
She and Zip faithfully guard my goats. Zip is #12 of a litter – the one they almost could not catch. The most devoted goat dog you could imagine, a mother to the goats. She got up slowly from the track last night when my ATV approached, carrying something in her mouth. I stopped and went over to check. She dropped a bloodied baby rabbit. I saw it quiver, on the brink of death. I looked at Zip. Her calm expression, with that faint Mona Lisa smile, was unaltered.