Meet Pepper

After a few years of successfully resisting the temptation to get a dog we finally caved in. We now have an untrainable nut job that loves to chase sheep.

After Cider, our beloved dog of 14 years, died in 2018, we agreed unequivocally that we would not get another one - no bloody way. This firm stance has lasted well, with no wavering, and the thought of constantly picking up dog crap from the garden (and sometimes the kitchen) as well as the maintenance, dependance and tie dogs create has kept us focused on this conviction. This was until we came across an advert for collie/huntaway cross puppies from a local farm. For those people that don’t know, these are usually quite high maintenance dogs that shit a lot. We went “just for a look” and came away with Pepper. I spent the short car journey to the farm telling the kids not to get their hopes up, and that we just needed to be sensible and gather some information about the breed before making any rash decisions. As we walked towards the lambing barn, where the puppies were being reared, I turned to the kids and maturely and firmly reiterated that “this was just a look, be sensible and don’t get excited”. I then looked ahead and saw the puppies cutely huddled together and two distinct beckoning eyes staring back at me. I quickly proceeded to melt into a pathetic mess and grabbed Pepper from the huddle, proclaiming that she was the one we wanted, whilst making ridiculous high-pitched noises that bore no resemblance to anything in the English language. As the perplexed kids came to pet the poor confused animal, I defensively shooed them away so I could continue delinquently administering belly rubs, oblivious to the world around me. A nudge from Sarah, and that look she manages to muster, brought me abruptly to my senses. We left shortly after with the stupid hound and I have been regretting it ever since. She is simply unlike any other dog I have had before and is basically untrainable. To try and deal with this situation I have watched countless YouTube videos on the latest training methods and, on the back of this advice, have spent the last few weeks prancing around the Smithy field with a pocket full of treats speaking in a high-pitched effeminate voice. One of the main issues has been Peppers insistence on going after the sheep we seem to have inherited from the previous owner of the field, and the “positive reinforcement” I keep attempting is just not working. It’s a comical charade that usually starts with me giving commands in the style of Alan Carr whilst holding out a fist full of doggy treats, and ends with me galloping over ant hills and through the long grass as I try and catch her as she pursues six enormous sheep. I often think this would look very odd to an onlooker, who will most likely not pick out the tiny puppy in this scene, and just see me legging it after sheep whilst making strange noises with my arms outstretched. As I am trying to settle in the area, this is a slight concern.

I explained my woes the other day to a passing farmer, and he laughed for about half an hour before finally correcting my numerous mistakes with some simple advice. He said I need to use a stern deep voice and smack her with a stick, and she will soon learn. I am not advocating dog beating of course, but I am interested in the complete disparity in approaches between the farmers simple brutal approach and the convoluted reward based psychoanalytical methodology of the YouTube experts. All I do know is that the farmers dogs behave impeccably. Anyway, I opted for the deep commanding voice element of his advice (not the smacking), and sure enough Pepper has started to listen. I am not sure this is down to the technique though, and think she is just freaked out by my erratic behaviour and apparent personality disorder. Frankly I am past caring and just want to start acting normally again. Anyway, I am happy to report that Pepper has rapidly improved and is in fact a lovely dog, with whom I can foresee many lovely experiences.