Chester
My sister has a brown and white English corgi named Chester. Corgi's look a lot like Icelandic sheep dogs in terms of hair type, snout and ear shape, and body length. They are also similar in temperament to Icelandic sheep dog, and generally make good pets. Their main distinguishing feature, though, is their very short legs, which wikipedia explains this way:
As herding dogs, Corgis work livestock differently than other breeds. Instead of gathering the cattle the way a Collie would, by running around the livestock, Corgis drive the herd forward by nipping at their heels and working them from behind in semi-circles. Seldom giving ground, if an animal should turn and charge the Corgi will bite its nose, causing it to turn and rejoin the herd.
Wikipedia seems a little confused on the subject of the short legs of the Corgi, thinking maybe this would be an advantage when herding cattle, but it is clearly a disadvantage herding sheep. I've also heard they were bred that way so they could go into fox and badger holes.
Anyhow, when I got here to my sister's house last night, I was so surprised how old Chester looked; he's always been a little overweight, but now his face has gone grey and his eyes have gotten cloudy, and he has arthritis in his legs which has made it hard for him to get around. Plus he needs a grooming. Last time I saw him (maybe a year and a half ago now?), he was in much better health, a spry little dog in fact. Me and him went for a big walk around the neighborhood. Kind of a funny story actually: I go trotting out the front door with him and we wandered from one street to the next until I was totally lost. And so then I figured it was time to go home, and said, "Home Chester, Home!" thinking this was a command he would recognize. Like some sort of divining rod, I thought I would just slacken the leash and follow his lead. Well, after about 10 minutes of this, I caught onto the fact that Chester was just as lost as I was, and had no idea how to get home. So we stopped, and I pulled out my cell phone and called my sister, told her what cross streets we were at. She came and picked us up in the car, and was laughing so hard that I thought Chester would know his way home.
Well, I certainly would not make that mistake now. Poor little guy can hardly get in and out of the house to go do his business.
As herding dogs, Corgis work livestock differently than other breeds. Instead of gathering the cattle the way a Collie would, by running around the livestock, Corgis drive the herd forward by nipping at their heels and working them from behind in semi-circles. Seldom giving ground, if an animal should turn and charge the Corgi will bite its nose, causing it to turn and rejoin the herd.
Wikipedia seems a little confused on the subject of the short legs of the Corgi, thinking maybe this would be an advantage when herding cattle, but it is clearly a disadvantage herding sheep. I've also heard they were bred that way so they could go into fox and badger holes.
Anyhow, when I got here to my sister's house last night, I was so surprised how old Chester looked; he's always been a little overweight, but now his face has gone grey and his eyes have gotten cloudy, and he has arthritis in his legs which has made it hard for him to get around. Plus he needs a grooming. Last time I saw him (maybe a year and a half ago now?), he was in much better health, a spry little dog in fact. Me and him went for a big walk around the neighborhood. Kind of a funny story actually: I go trotting out the front door with him and we wandered from one street to the next until I was totally lost. And so then I figured it was time to go home, and said, "Home Chester, Home!" thinking this was a command he would recognize. Like some sort of divining rod, I thought I would just slacken the leash and follow his lead. Well, after about 10 minutes of this, I caught onto the fact that Chester was just as lost as I was, and had no idea how to get home. So we stopped, and I pulled out my cell phone and called my sister, told her what cross streets we were at. She came and picked us up in the car, and was laughing so hard that I thought Chester would know his way home.
Well, I certainly would not make that mistake now. Poor little guy can hardly get in and out of the house to go do his business.
Comments