The other day, I was searching for a poem my dad wrote about his working dogs, when I got to thinking about my working dogs. one thing led to another, so I decided to write my own poem about my own working dogs and here it is. I still haven't found dad's yet tho....
The Kelpie
The sun is
rising slowly through the mulga and the box
The day is
slowly dawning over parched and broken rocks
The sheep
they need a shifting as the waters cutting out
It’ll kill
off all the cattle lest the rains don’t break the drought
We have no
choice but shift them to find some more sparse feed
But the day
is getting hotter and there’s not much of a breeze
We drift
around them slowly as we look over the mob
A streak of
red shoots to the lead, a little kelpie dog
It’s Joolia,
the kelpie, a mighty little hound
Out the
front and in the lead is where she will be found
She’ll set ‘em
and she’ll block ‘em as we walk the stock away
She’ll drift
and block and tuck them in and do it all the day
And as the
heat is rising and the mob, it starts to break,
A call will
rise for Sophie and the job will be OK
The black
and tan trooper, bred down in the south
A faithful,
loyal worker who will never let you down
But now we
steady down as we’ve reached the end at last,
We count the
mob out through the gate to our last patch of grass
We wait and
hope and hold our breath for the coming of the rains
When once
again the stock grow fat out on the western plains
A bang, a
crack a deafening roar as down comes thunderous rain
We wait to
see at daylight how much water in the gauge
The rain
keeps slowly falling over coming weeks and days
The grass it
is returning to the verdant western plains
The wool is
bold and lustrous now on the backs of robust sheep
The cows are
fat and shiny and the calves are big and sleek
We’ll have
to muster in the mob and draft and shear and brand
They’ll be fast
now through the mulga as they are brought to hand
They streak
up through the ridges and down along the creek,
It’s time to
send the big guns in and send in Boy and Dee
The black
and brown will block the lead and turn the mob right back
They’ll use
the tooth to turn them they won’t cut them any slack.
And trigger
too will back them up and block and push and drive
There’s not
a beast outrun her although many have but tried
The little streak
of lightning a jet of darkest black
She’s one of
the all rounders who’ll give anything a crack.
And let’s
not forget our Lilly, the sister of streak
She’s a
tough but gentle trooper who is nimble on her feet
She looks
all sweet an innocent as she as she keeps the mob along
But she’ll
bite the bloody bastards if they’re taking far too long
I have no
time for trial dogs, there’s no secret in that fact
They worry all
about the looks and how they move and act.
My Kelpies
style is ugly and the job looks bloody rough
But of
style, and points and prancing, I couldn’t give a stuff.
I’d be
stuffed without my kelpies, of that there is no doubt
For without
them I’d be busted up with bikes all smashed about
My mutts are
worth a dozen men, they’re loyal, straight and true
They never
ask for nothing ‘cept a bag or two of
food
So please
don’t be offended if I turn down the request
Of a rough
and tumble ringer who claims to be the best
For I’m sure
my dogs will show him up and leave him looking dumb
And they’re
always there to help me, they never leave my run
So through
the drought and through the floods and all that in between
My dogs will
stand beside me as a solid working team
I know they’re
not the best of breed, of that there is no doubt
But they’ll
do for a close second, oh yes “KELPIE” is the shout.
