A Belated Welcome to Stretch

Stretch joined the farm in the fall of 2022, but I never did a post about him. He is a Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dog. My 4th. He has not been neutered. He stays with the sheep. He was given to me because he suffered a seizure (as a pup) and the breeder/trainer did not feel comfortable selling the dog to anyone. She knew I was looking for another guardian dog, but wasn't inclined to fork over $1000. It's hard to justify such an expense when you have small flock and no apparent predator problems. 

11 months old

At first Stretch was very timid. Now he is not. Sometimes, he is too playful. Like a lot of guardian dogs on small farms, he'd probably prefer to be a pet -- but I think he's got a pretty good life as an outside dog. He's so-so as a livestock guardian dog. He has never harmed any of the sheep, but he moves fast and often scares them, causing them to knock things over. That's not really his fault. He guards his food pretty closely. He does a good job patrolling the perimeters of the property. I wish he would scare the guinea fowl away. The same neighbor has released guinea fowl into the neighborhood again.

Last year, on the day I was to leave for the airport to go to Ireland, I found Stretch with a face-full of porcupine quills. I dropped him off at the vet and my farm sitter picked him up.  I tried pulling a few of the quills (he let me), but thought he would need a more thorough job.  He did. A year or so ago, he had an encounter with a skunk. I guess he's doing his job. 

Stretch and Ty are good buddies.

Like my other Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dogs, Stretch is a gentle giant. He lets me do most anything to him (unlike Ty, the crazy dog). He listens to me. Stretch gets along well with Ty.  I just wish Stretch hated guinea fowl. The vet didn't think Stretch would have any more seizures after the first one, but there was no guarantee. He has not had any seizures since I have had him. He's been healthy. His only problem is the bug bites on his nose, same as the other dogs used to get.

They all love the snow.

My Sweet Maggie

I found Maggie dead on June 19. Under a tree. Cause of death unknown. She was only eight and a half years old. I only had her for fifteen months. I got her shortly after Boone died unexpectedly in March 2020. A friend gave her to me. She was an extra on their farm.  

Maggie was a sweet girl. I will miss her. Her box of ashes joins the boxes containing ashes of Boone and McComb before her. She may have been a livestock guardian dog, but I still loved her like a pet. 

Recently, I had been treating one of her toe pads. It had a hole in it. I found maggots. After treating it, I would wrap her paw in vet wrap. I kept her in the garage and fenced backyard for about 10 days to try to keep her paw clean. She liked to burrow. I had only recently put her back in with the sheep when she died. A few days before she died, I tried to give her her first bath. She would have not part of it. I gave up.

She was the only dog I ever had that wouldn't regularly eat her dog food. I had to add something to it. Most of the time, I added some soft (can) food to her food. Sometimes, I added cheese, milk, or eggs, but she didn't seem to like that too much. Other times, I saved meat or other table scraps. This is what she preferred. I had to be careful not to feed her where there was shavings or sawdust. She would turn her nose into a shovel and scoop the shavings into her food dish. I bought her an elevated dish, but she'd still manage to get sawdust into her food. I needed to feed her outside where there was nothing to scoop.

This is the last picture I took of Maggie, about a week before she died.

This is my favorite picture of her with sheep. I might enter it in a contest.

This is another favorite. She's keeping a watchful eye on the farm.

She was a beauty. A purebred Great Pyrenees.

RIP my dear sweet Maggie.

Welcome, Maggie

Boone died suddenly on March 4, 2020.  I found him dead in the field. I don't know what happened to him. I decided to get another livestock guardian dog.

Maggie is another Great Pyrenees. She is an un-spayed female. She is about 7 years old. I got her from a sheep farmer friend of mine, who was left with her when her veterinarian friend moved out of state. We had talked about me getting Maggie before, but I decided to wait until after Boone was gone. In his latter years, Boone had become very submissive. I didn't want another dog trying to dominate him. Two already had. I let Boone live out his life peacefully.

So far, Maggie is working out well, though one time she got out of the fencing. I don't know how. She was gone for several hours. I found her in the trees behind the big field. She was laying under a  tree without a care in the world. She hasn't gotten out since. I guess she got it out of her system. I certainly hope so.

I couldn't get her to eat much of the food I fed to McComb and Boone (Pedigree Big Dog). She prefers a cheaper dog food I get from Tractor Supply. Like Boone, she likes cheese slices. For the first several weeks, I kept her in the back bay of the garage. I didn't want to introduce a new dog to the ewes, as they had just started lambing. Gradually, I released her. She immediately accepted her new charges.

More than a month ago, she encountered a skunk. The stink is gradually subsiding. She still shares a corner of the garage bay with the bum lambs. I keep her food and water there and she can sleep there if it is raining. She doesn't eat right away like Boone and McComb did, so I need a place to feed her. She goes back and forth between pastures. She seems to be looking for prey. One day, I found her with a rabbit. It always amazes me that these livestock guardian dogs will kill other animals, but not harm their charges. Amazing dogs.

Maggie is a very pretty dog. She looks like Boone in the face. I have accidentally called her Boone a few times.  She's good with the lambs. She's a great addition to the Baalands.

Gentle Boone

Boone died on March 4, 2020. I found him late at night in the field. I don't know what killed him. I thought perhaps he choked on his food, as I saw vomit and he had a tortured look on his face.

Boone's death was not expected. His age (11-12) was typical life expectancy for a Great Pyrenees, but he was showing no signs of ill health. Sure, he had slowed down significantly and he sometimes had difficulty rising from his haunches, but he had eaten fine the night he died and seemed his normal self.

Twice in 2019, Boone had developed weakness in his hindquarters, unable to rise. Both times, he responded to medication (prednisone). The first time was more severe and I kept him in the garage for a while.  I was concerned that the sheep might accidentally hurt him. In fact, he had been trampled by them only a short time before he developed the hind end weakness.

Boone was named after Boonsboro, Maryland. He was so-named because I got him at the Katahdin Hair Sheep International Expo, which I hosted in Boonsboro in 2008. My other Great Pyrenees had been named after McComb, Mississippi, the site of another KHSI Expo. That is a whole other story.

Boone was an absolutely adorable puppy. As a puppy, he never stayed where I put him. He climbed out of every pen and crawled through any gate he could. At the same, time he never ventured outside of the electric fence, so his "escaping" was never problematic. I think he just wanted to be with McComb and the sheep. One of Boone's favorite escapades as a puppy was to sit in the hexagon hay feeders. He didn't care if the sheep wanted to eat.

Boone and McComb got along marvelously. At first McComb was a little uncertain of the pesky little puppy, but eventually he accepted him as his best buddy. Boone and Zak were also best friends. I frequently put them together to play, especially when they were both young. One of my favorite memories is the day the three dogs all romped around in a deep snow. Another memory is the day I took the three of them to the vet, all at the same time (cat, too). All three boys behaved extremely well. Can't say the same for the cat (Max).

Boone wasn't a great livestock guardian dog, but since he never got out (wandered) and didn't hurt any of the sheep, he was a guardian dog by default. After McComb died (in 2017), Boone seemed lost and didn't always stay near the sheep. He didn't bark as much or patrol the perimeter of the property. He was "in retirement" when he died.

He was a very gentle and sweet dog. He wouldn't hurt anybody or anything. He even tolerated Sofie, the Karakachan pup I got to "replace" McComb. Sofie didn't last; she was too aggressive. There was one notable exception:  don't touch his food!  He would protect his food at all times. More than once he nipped at a sheep's nose or bit at a lamb's ear, if they got too close to his food dish.  While McComb's favorite treat was pumpkin, Boone liked cheese slices. Towards the end of his life, he received a daily treat of a cheese slice. It was never hard to give Boone medicine. Just wrap it in some cheese.

I miss you buddy.

Boone
2008-2020

Meet Sofie

While McComb, the dog, can never be "replaced." He was too special. McComb, the livestock guardian dog, has a replacement. Her name is Sofie, so named for the capitol of Bulgaria. Sofia is a Karakachan, a mountain breed that originated in Bulgaria. Karakachans used to be border army watchdogs. Now, they are mostly livestock guardians. Sofie is about 12 weeks old.

Sofie:  first day

Best Dog Ever

MCCOMB  2004-2017

On March 21, 2017, I had McComb euthanized. He would have been 13 years old this summer.  That's pretty old for a Great Pyrenees. McComb had lived a long, happy life, but time had caught up with him. His health had deteriorated rapidly in the last 4-5 days of his life. There was no quality of life left in him. He could hardly get up. Sometimes, his breathing was labored. His thick coat of hair had become a huge liability. He had some sort of a seizure a few days ago. He wasn't eating. He was an old dog. It was time. It was a hard thing to do, but I believe I made the right decision. I petted him as the lethal drug was injected his vein. He went very peacefully. I could not stop my tears.

Six days before his death

McComb was my first livestock guardian dog. He was a gift from the Katahdin Hair Sheep International (KHSI). He was the only puppy left in a litter of puppies that someone had brought to the Expo to sell. I had eyed the puppies, but I was reluctant to buy one because I wasn't certain I wanted the responsibility of another dog, even a farm dog. I was looking for some sort of  "sign" that it was the right thing to do. The owner ended up donating the puppy to the association.  They planned to auction him off.  When the auction began, everyone looked at me, expecting me to bid on the puppy. I was reluctant; then, several members started bidding on him. Several members chipped in, and they bought him for me. I am forever grateful.

I named him McComb after the location of the Expo:  McComb, Mississippi. I bought a dog crate so that we could take the puppy back to Maryland. My parents had accompanied me on the trip, and my mom wasn't too happy about driving back to Maryland with an 8-week-old puppy. Her mind changed fast. She fell in love with the angelic ball of white fur. Everybody who met him did. He was a wonderful dog from the very beginning.

The angelic puppy

Since McComb was so little, I put him with a few lambs to start with. Later, he "battled" the ewes for dominance. They were a lot bigger than he was, and he wasn't sure what his place was. The first lambing season, he would often hide under the hay feeders. But, eventually, the little ball of fluff grew into a magnificent dog, and the sheep accepted him as their protector, one of their own. Occasionally, a lamb would take a special liking to him. I remember a lamb I named Kelso. He would follow McComb everywhere and sit with him in the pasture. The interaction between livestock guardian dogs and a flock of sheep is a wonderful thing.

At his prime, 3 years old

McComb was never any trouble. He was my gentle giant. I never had to train him to walk on a leash. It came natural to him. He loved going places. Trips to the vet were fun for him. After a few years, I found it necessary to get him clipped at the start of every summer. He definitely did not have good fur. It was long and thick. It did not shed or comb out well. He loved trips to Petsmart. They seemed to like him there. After his "grooming" I would walk him around the store. He would "strut" and people would awe at his beauty. The clipping always seemed to rejuvenate him, especially as he got older.

His only mischievousness was his desire to run around the neighborhood on occasion. If a gate was open, he'd go for it. You could seem the gleam in his eyes. He just wanted to go exploring. I'd go chasing after him, but he wouldn't come to me because I'd end his fun. One time, he got out unbeknownst to me. I found him sitting outside the gate. Apparently, he'd gone for a run and come back. Like most dogs, McComb loved the snow. He preferred cold weather. 

He required surgery in 2014 when his was 10 years old. He had a growth on his anus removed. He got a two week break from the sheep. They sent him home with an elizabethan collar. It was not necessary. While he didn't like me putting antibiotic on his surgery area, he never bothered the stitches. Unfortunately, he kept licking his leg where they had put in the IV.  He seemed to be having a little trouble pooping after the surgery, so the vet told me to give him some pumpkin. He loved it! In his later years, I would often dip his dog treats in pumpkin. He also enjoyed hot dogs and slices of cheese.

McComb and Kelso

I hosted the KHSI Expo in 2008 in Maryland. Ron Young (from Ohio) had a litter of Great Pyrenees puppies that he was selling. I bought one, I thought for my dad (but he didn't want a dog). Like McComb, Boone takes his name from Boonsboro, Maryland, the location of the 2008 meeting.

Boone and McComb became instantaneously pals, though McComb wasn't so certain about the inquisitive pup at first. Over the years, the two dogs formed a close bond. They were always together. They played and romped together. I had no doubt they appreciated each others company. Boone seems a bit lost without McComb, but he is adjusting.

With Boone, 5 years old

I can't express how much I miss McComb. He was quite possibly the most perfect dog, at least he was to me.  I always slept better knowing that he was watching over the farm. I suppose the sheep in heaven are safer now with McComb watching over them. I'm not sure if I will spread his ashes over his domain or keep them close to me, so I can "talk" to him when I'm feeling down.

My gentle giant

I call McComb my gentle giant. McComb is my Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dog. He lives with my Katahdin sheep. He'll be four years old this summer. I've never regretted getting him.

McComb takes his name from McComb, Mississippi, where I got him in the fall of 2004. My parents and I were attending the annual meeting of Katahdin Hair Sheep International. Someone had brought a litter of Great Pyrenees puppies to sell. I couldn't resist picking the puppies up. Who could? They were big balls of white flufff, with gorgeous eyes.

At the time, I was considering getting a livestock guardian, but hadn't decided yet between a dog, a llama, or a donkey. It goes without saying that a dog is a big responsibility, one that will be with you for 10 or more years. I already had a pet dog, Sly, an 85-lb. Black Lab x German Shepherd mix. I wasn't sure I wanted another big dog, even if it was going to live with the sheep (and the goats that I had at the time). Plus, I didn't want to drive a puppy all the way back to Maryland. My mother certainly didn't want to share her ride with a yappy canine.

My fellow Katahdin breeders were encouraging me to buy a puppy. I told them I wasn't sure if I wanted one. Then I said, if I was meant to have one, there would be some kind of "signal." Perhaps, lightening would strike. I'd know the sign when it came. As the event was drawing to a close, one puppy remained. No one had bought it. One of the Katahdin breeders said this was the signal. I should get the puppy. Still unsure, I resisted.

Not wanting to take any puppies home, the breeder donated the unsold puppy to the Katahdin association, to be auctioned off during the business meeting with the proceeds going to the association. As the bidding started, I remained silent and held my arms crossed. I was not going to buy that puppy, even one as cute as McComb.

The president of our association started the bidding at $20 and said he was going to give me the puppy. Several others joined in the bidding, with the same intention. I don't remember what the final price was, but McComb was mine, compliments of Katahdin Hair Sheep International. How could I have refused the puppy? My mom thought I could. He came with a box of toys and food -- and a name.

We bought a dog crate, a leash, some dishes, and puppy food at the local Kmart. It was going to take us two days to drive home to Maryland. We picked McComb up on a Sunday morning, in the pouring down rain. Not long after we left, McComb started to wimper and cry. It was going to be a long trip. My mom was probably thinking, "I told you so."

We took McComb out of his crate and let him stretch out on the floor of the car. This contented him. He didn't make any more sounds. Sometimes, we would hold him on our laps. He walked on the leash without any coercing. When we stopped, he did his business quickly. He was frightened by the big trucks that went whizzing by. While we slept in the hotel, McComb slumbered in his crate. He was an excellent travel companion. My mother was amazed. What a good puppy he was turning out to be.

When I got McComb home, I placed him in a pen (in my hoop house) by himself for a week or so. It's good to raise a guardian puppy with baby lambs, but it was October and all I had left were two adolescent ram lambs and a wether kid. I put McComb with the lambs and goat. He got knocked around a few times, but eventually they accepted each other. McComb liked licking their butts and perhaps they liked it, too.

After the lambs and goat were sold, McComb went in with the ewes. He spent much of his first winter under the hay feeders, trying to determine his role on the farm. He was intimidated by the goats, who were always trying to eat his food. McComb liked when the new lambs came. The lambs always accept him as one of their own. They play with him and he with they.

McComb was an adorable puppy. After I put some pictures of him on Flickr™, he was named "puppy of the week" by a web site. He grew rapidly. His rate-of-gain was comparable to that of a lamb or goat. Full grown, he is a magnificent looking dog, true to his noble heritage. The last time I weighed him, he was 106 lbs. His fur is 5 to 6 inches long. He stays relatively clean for an outside dog. I had him clipped this past summer. He had a couple of hot spots on his hind legs. His fur grew back rapidly. I think I'll have him clipped every summer to make him more comfortable and allow his fur to regrow.

McComb loves cold weather and the snow. After all, his breed is meant to live in the mountains. While he always has access to shelter, McComb prefers to lie in the snow or on the cold ground. During the summer, he sleeps under the trees or other places where he can find relief from the heat.

The only problem I've had with McComb was when he was about a year old. There was a lamb whose front legs were scarred. I suspected McComb had caused the injury. He wouldn't leave the lamb 's side. So, I took McComb away from the lambs and used the opportunity to have him neutered. I also had his back declaws removed. I don't put him in with ram lambs anymore. They are too frisky. Sometimes, they try to mount him. I guess you can't blame McComb for biting back.

In another incident, a lamb was running and collapsed (it died of unknown cause). McComb ran to the lamb and stayed with it until I came, as if he knew it needed my help. A neighbor related this to me. She was amazed at McComb's response to the incident. In fact, watching McComb relate to the sheep and lambs is one of the greatest enjoyments of having him. His relationship with them seems so natural.

At one time, I thought McComb was chasing the ewes too much. It was during breeding season, so I was doubly concerned. Then I realized that the ewes often run when he's running, but not after them. During the lambing season, the ewes are very brave towards him, but the rest of the year, they try to keep some distance. The lambs always trust him. He is one of them. Eventually, all of the flock will have grown up with him.

Sometimes, McComb slips through an open gate. He's taken a few strolls around the neighborhood. He's got an ideal life for a dog, but sometimes I think he longs to know what life is like outside of the fence. He always comes back -- if I don't catch him first.

McComb has an incredible personality. He is sweet and gentle. He does his job well. He patrols the perimeter of the pasture. Nothing approaches the perimeter fence without his notice. Usually, he runs to whatever or whoever is near the fence. He follows the neighbors as they drive up their driveways. At night, he barks a lot. It took me awhile to get used to the barking, but now it's soothing to me. The sheep don't seem to mind. The neighbors have never complained.

Everybody loves McComb -- my family (especially my mom), neighbors, and everyone who visits my farm. McComb loves people, especially children. He gets along well with my pet dog, Zak, and my cat, Max. On occasion, I put Zak and McComb together to play. Sometimes, Max joins them. I give McComb a treat every morning. Sometimes, I sit with him and stroke his fur. Sometimes, we play. He romps around like a huge, goofy puppy.

I give more attention to McComb than I could if I had a large farm. But since the farm is small (40 ewes and 7 acres of pasture) and he can't get out of the high-tensile, electric fence, I can give him a little bit (maybe a lot) of attention. After all, he's my gentle giant.

Pictures of McComb on Flickr™