Learning from my Dogs

I'm fascinated by dogs - working dogs, in particular. Since we got into the sheep business as a commercial enterprise nearly 15 years ago, I've been blessed by the opportunity to work with, and learn from, a variety of dogs. A good number of these dogs have been working border collies; others have been livestock guardian dogs of various breeds. In every case - whether I trained the dog or not, I've learned something. And as I've grown older and gained more experience, I've realized how much I don't know!

I told someone recently that I have re-read several books on training herding dogs over the years (The Farmer's Dog by John Holmes and Talking Sheepdogs by Derek Scrimgeor). Looking back, I realize now that both books, while interesting, where way above my head at my first reading. I didn't know enough to know how uninformed I was! As I've re-read these books, the subtlety of working with sheep dogs in a variety of settings and situations has informed my understanding. Real-world experience, in other words, has complimented my book learning.

Livestock guardian dogs, I've found, are every bit as complicated as herding dogs. When we purchased our first LGD, a female Akbash named Scarlet, I assumed one big white dog would be as good as any other. This seems silly now that I write it - I absolutely know that some border collies have greater herding abilities than others; why wouldn't this be the same for LGDs? I'm still learning this lesson, but I'm finally able to see that my training needs to respond to a particular dog's experience, behavior, personality, and instincts. Yet another outstanding dog book, Brave and Loyal by my friend and fellow shepherd, Cat Urbigkit, has added to my understanding of these complex canines.

Which brings me to a few observations about a handful of young dogs that I'm working with currently. We kept two border collies out of a litter of pups that my dog Mae had last summer. Gillie and Sage are just over a year old, and both are proving to be more challenging to train than their parents. Sage had some time away from training due to a surgery - I've just started him on sheep again. Gillie had some time off while we were lambing (I just didn't have enough time in the day). Both pups are not nearly as confident as their parents, and Gillie is especially sensitive when I try to correct her. We're taking it slowly; Mae was doing real work by the time she was 18 months old. I'm realizing that I might need help from a professional trainer - I'll probably try to take a lesson with both of them simply to get some suggestions on MY approach to their training.

We're also starting a young Akbash-Pyrenees cross named Dillon. He's just over 6 months old and looks to be a promising guardian. He's currently with a handful of yearling ewes, and he seems to be well bonded. He's so well bonded, in fact, that he frantically dug under a gate to be with them after we had to sedate him to remove foxtails from his ears. He's proving (at least so far) that he'll stay in all kinds of fencing (electric fence as well as hard-wire field fence) as long as his sheep are there. And he's developed a deep, impressive bark - which he uses whenever there's something he deems a threat. As an inexperienced pup, this threat might be coyotes singing in the ravine north of his pasture, or it might be the neighbor kid riding her bike down the gravel road.

Another friend and fellow rancher, Liz Hubbard, once told me, "When you're working a dog, you need to be totally present and totally focused." Perhaps that's the biggest thing I've learned from my working dogs. When I work with my herding dogs, I can't be daydreaming or fretting over a bad day at the office. Every bit of work we do together is a training session - for all of us! Being present and focused with my livestock guardian dogs is a different matter; I have to be observant without disrupting their bond with their sheep. In both cases, the responsibility for communicating lies with me - it's not the dog's fault if she doesn't understand what I'm asking. I suppose in some respects, being totally present and totally focused is one definition of empathy - I find that it helps me see the world through their eyes. And I learn something every time we work together.

Do these Big White Dogs Really Work?!

At the beginning of November, I had the privilege to be invited to speak about my experience with and research into livestock guardian dogs at the West Central States Wool Growers Convention in Casper, Wyoming. The Saturday session, where I spoke, was organized by Dr. Whit Stewart, Sheep Specialist and Professor at the University of Wyoming. Other speakers (including Dr. Stewart) discussed mastitis in sheep, mineral supplementation and nutrition, managing coccidiosis, using new technology to monitor rangeland use and diets of sheep and wildlife, marketing feeder lambs profitably, and a variety of other hugely interesting topics. I found it invigorating to be among other ranchers - and other researchers - with such enthusiastic interest in commercial sheep production!

To me, one of the more enjoyable aspects of ranching and conducting research in the era of social media is that I've made virtual friends with folks who share my interests all over the world! Dr. Stewart and I, for example, had never met in person before the meeting. When I went to pay for my purchases in the silent auction fundraiser, I met another virtual friend - Jenny Osguthorpe and her husband Brad ranch in Utah and Wyoming. I also had a chance to talk dogs and sheep with Cat Urbigkit, editor of The Shepherd magazine. Cat and her family ranch in western Wyoming - she's been using livestock guardian dogs in wolf country for a number of years. I had so much fun meeting these folks (and others) in person - social media is great, but there's no substitute for actually visiting with someone directly!

All of this is a long-winded introduction to a recorded version of my talk, "Do these Big White Dogs Really Work?! Livestock Guardian Dog Solutions: Observations from a Rancher/Researcher." If you've used these dogs, I hope you'll share your observations! If you have questions, ask away!

The Cost of Coexistence

If you've read my blog previously, you probably know that we try to use nonlethal livestock protection tools in our sheep operation. You probably also know that I'm studying the interactions between livestock guardian dogs and wildlife in our foothill environment. Using game cameras set up around the perimeter of our sheep paddocks, I'm trying to document the kinds of wildlife (especially predators) that our dogs might encounter. Using self-built GPS collars, I'm also tracking the positions of the dogs in relationship to the animals captured in the cameras. In the coming weeks, I'm hoping to add a digital, voice-activated audio recorder to this set up - I know the dogs are barking in response to predators, but I'd like to know if they differentiate between threatening and non-threatening wildlife.

All of this is a long-winded introduction to an idea that's been percolating in my sheepherder/researcher brain. Some time ago I posted on social media several of the more interesting trail camera photos (we "caught" coyotes, raccoons, skunks and a red tail hawk). A friend asked me if the coyote was still living. I had to admit that I'm not a very good shot - beyond that, I described my research project, as well as the fact that the sheep are currently in a location that makes lethal control difficult. His response (as much tongue-in-cheek as mine had been) was, "Lucky coyote."

But as I thought more about our humorous exchange, I began to realize that maybe this particular coyote was lucky. Our livestock guardian dogs protect our sheep, certainly; they also protect the predators in our environment. Based on my observations (and the photos I'm getting with the trail cameras), we have predators like coyotes and foxes (I have yet to get a photo of a mountain lion or black bear, but I suspect we have these, too) in close proximity to our sheep. And yet because of the dogs and electric fences, these carnivores are not eating lamb or mutton. Because of our dogs and electric fences, we're avoiding conflicts with wildlife.

Obviously, our society values wildlife. Californians have voted to protect mountain lions from hunting. Gray wolves, who appear to be expanding their range in the Sierra, are protected by the state and federal endangered species acts. Few of us, however, must live directly with the consequences of this protection. While I'll absolutely admit that I get a thrill whenever I see wildlife (including predators), I'll also admit to feeling a deep sense of responsibility to the sheep I raise. My sheep depend upon me for protection. To a certain extent, these predators do as well.

I'm not unique among my sheep-raising colleagues in the foothills (or indeed, throughout the West). Many of us use livestock guardian dogs or other guardian animals. Most of us (myself included) use guardian animals to avoid the economic impacts of predation - after all, every lamb killed by a coyote represents a financial loss. Even ranchers who use lethal control often use nonlethal methods as well. Like most ranchers, I raise sheep both as a business and as an avocation - I love working outdoors with livestock. I love grazing my sheep on foothill rangeland. For me to be able to continue to do what I love (even on a part-time basis), the sheep business has to turn a profit.

Consequently, my decisions about how to protect my sheep from predators are based largely on economics. One of the challenges in analyzing livestock protection tools from an economic perspective is to compare the costs with the benefits. The cost side of this equation is easy. I know that each livestock guardian dog costs me $600-800 per year in dog food and veterinary care. I know that about half of the puppies we start won't end up working in our system. I know that I'll spend about $1,500 on purchasing and raising a puppy to working age (around two years old). And I know that I'll hopefully get 6-8 years of service from a puppy that makes the transition to working adult.

What I don't know - what I can't possibly know - is how many lambs a particular dog saves from predation each year. I can't measure something that doesn't happen. I sleep better at night knowing my sheep are protected by a vigilant dog; I haven't been able to attach a specific dollar figure to my peace of mind.

As I think about the wildlife we're protecting by using dogs, the economic analysis is similarly challenging. What is a coyote or mountain lion worth to someone who values these animals in the environment?

In academic terms, I suppose we are providing an ecosystem service by using livestock guardian dogs. Our use of dogs, by reducing conflict between sheep and predators, protects both. The "lucky" coyote I caught with my game camera gets to live on the ranch we lease because our dogs and our fences keep him from killing sheep. Despite this service, we don't get any more money for our lambs. There is no premium paid for our efforts to coexist. If coexistence is truly important to us all, perhaps there should be.

Further Reflections on Non-lethal Predator Protection

Reno at work.

From my earlier writing in this space, you may know that we're committed to using non-lethal livestock protection tools in our sheep operation (see Big Dogs, Hot Fences and Fast Sheep - A Few Thoughts on Predators and Sheep-raising or Livestock and Predators: No Easy Answers for a few of my recent posts on the topic). We use these non-lethal tools for practical and philosophical reasons. From a practical standpoint, I can't be with our sheep 24 hours a day to keep the coyotes, mountain lions and neighbor dogs at bay. Even if I could, we often graze in close proximity to houses, making the use of a rifle impossible. Philosophically, we've made a decision to try to co-exist with predators as part of a more comprehensive strategy: we want our grazing operation to fit into and (when possible) to enhance our annual rangeland environment. Non-lethal tools permit us to protect our sheep and protect the large carnivores in our system.  And most days, our system works great. Except when it doesn't.

Two recent incidents have reminded me that no predator protection system is perfect - even ours. Just over a week ago, we ran all of the ewes through the corrals to assess body condition prior to flushing. During this process, we also check mouths (to make sure the ewes have all of their teeth) and bags (we feel their udders to make sure there's no evidence of past mastitis). We also take an inventory by checking off ear tags. This allows us to replace missing ear tags - and, on rare occasions, discover whether we are missing any sheep. This year, we discovered that 262, one of our registered Shropshire ewes, was missing. I recalled that she had been missing at shearing in May also, but I had chalked that up to the chaos that is shearing day.  As we discussed her disappearance, we realized that we had not seen any evidence of a dead ewe (a carcass, roosting vultures, bawling lambs) since she had her lambs in early March.  Doing further research, we discovered that the sheep had broken out just once since lambing started. While there is no way to know what happened to 262 with any certainty, we assume that she was killed by a predator, probably a mountain lion, and possibly when the sheep were outside the electric fence for several hours in late March. She disappeared even though the flock was protected by our experienced livestock guardian dog at the time.

Bodie with his ewe lambs.

Today provided another reminder of one of the key challenges to our system. As you may recall, we recently purchased a new Anatolian x Maremma guard dog pup (Bodie).  For the most part, Bodie has been exhibiting appropriate guarding behavior - he's definitely bonded with the sheep.  In late August, we placed Bodie with our older dog, Reno, with a large group of sheep.  Since early September, he's been on his own with a group of weaned ewe lambs.  This morning, I found a ewe lamb who had been chewed on mostly around the ears.  As I was checking her over, Bodie came back and tried to play with her.  I corrected him (with growl and by grabbing him by the rough of the neck) and removed the lamb.  Tonight, I put Bodie with the older ewes and Reno with the lambs - older ewes usually don't put up with a playful puppy (and chewed ears are a symptom of a puppy treating lambs like fellow puppies). In many respects, today's incident is my mistake.

Bodie with his new charges - the older ewes.

This ewe lamb should recover
completely - but she's not
feeling very well today.

Bodie's handiwork.

I was reminded that Reno - who is the best dog we've ever had - exhibited similar behavior when he was Bodie's age.  We even had a one-eared ewe that we affectionately called "Vinnie" (a sheepherder reference to Vincent Van Gogh) - the most extreme example of Reno's inappropriate play behavior.  While I'm confident that Bodie will outgrow this behavior, this morning was a reminder to me that he's still young and that we need to help him understand his job.

Both of these incidents underscore one of the challenges in greater adoption of non-lethal tools among ranchers. I believe that these non-lethal tools work, and a set-back like a chewed-on ewe lamb doesn't alter my belief.  Instead, I look for changes we can make in how we're managing our guard dogs and our sheep that will hopefully resolve the problem. Similarly, I believe that my time is better spent building temporary electric fence and moving the sheep to the forage than it would be buying, storing and feeding hay. But if I had a different paradigm - if I believed that the only way to protect my sheep was to kill every coyote I saw at the ranch - today's setback would simply reinforce my belief that non-lethal tools (like guard dogs) don't work.

All of this brings me to the real point of this essay. Nonprofit organizations, government agencies and academics (like me) can easily recommend the use of non-lethal predator protection tools. The flip-side of these recommendations is that we can also easily criticize those producers who don't use them as being out of touch with modern production systems and societal norms. But the decision to use (or not to use) non-lethal tools is not that simple. Not only is the success of these tools very site-specific (in other words, a rancher needs to use a tool that fits his or her terrain, type of livestock, type of predator, etc.); success depends largely on whether an individual producer believes in the tool. I believe guardian dogs work in my system and in my environment - and so I'll go to the added expense and labor of feeding a dog every day, of treating a sick or injured dog, of adjusting my management to increase the likelihood of a dog's success. A producer who sees all of these things as added expense and added work - without the associated benefit - would see today's setback as confirmation that the system won't work.

Finally, I find that this morning's episode confirms for me the challenges in taking a biological (as opposed to a technological) approach to managing our sheep operation (for a more detailed perspective on this, see Technology vs. Biology). Biology is much more complicated - we have to understand interacting systems, behaviors and cycles. I have the technology to kill a coyote; I find it much more challenging to understand how our dogs and sheep can interact with coyotes without the interaction being lethal (for individuals within any of these species).