It is hard for me to describe one dog without reference to the other. Elky and Tassel are quite different in temperment, and I have come to think of them as two differently charged particles that in many ways seem to define each other. But I will try to keep the focus on Tassel alone in this post, the girl in the picture cooling her heels at a recent herding event.Joanna calls her the dog with the happy heart, and that's how I think of her now. My early morning routine begins around 6:30 or 7:00. I put the tea kettle on to boil, feed the marvelous cats Mavis and Jake, and then go to my study where the dogs sleep each night in their crates...as they have each night for practically their entire lives. They are wide awake and eager for their morning to begin, barely pausing for a skritch before loping to the front door. After a routine "sit stay" to give me room to open the door, they watch me carefully for the "OK" that marks the start of the morning scramble. For a dog who just spent 8 or 10 hours in her crate, one would assume the first order of the day would be to find a place to pee, but for Tass it is to gallop down the driveway, tail held high and wagging, then turn around and run back to me for a quick and enthusiastic embrace before making the circuit again. She is the embodiment of that phrase from Psalms, "This is the day the Lord has made; let us be rejoice and be glad in it."
I have never known a dog so compliant when it comes to recall. I walk Tassle and Elky for an hour or so each morning, and for half the time or more the dogs are off leash: romping up and down our wooded trails or hiking across the open fields at the 95 acre Battlepoint Park. Tassle likes to "take point" to use the old infantry phrase: she'll lead our party, staying anywhere from a few feet ahead to 30 yards or more. She is always sure to know where the rest of us are, even though she might be out of sight. She hesitates at any trail junctions or obvious branches in our walk long enough to get her cue for which way we'll go, but much of the time she is well down the road ahead of us. But regardless of what fascinations of scent or sight she may be enjoying, when I call her she turns at once and comes to me...and she's as glad to see me then as she is on that first morning romp.
There are many feral rabbits at the park, progeny of years of liberated Easter bunnies (and thus of many sizes, shapes, and colors) and it is Tassle's considerable pleasure to chase them to the entrance of their warrens that honeycomb the thickets of wild rose and blackberry brambles. The other morning we came over a little berm and surprised a half dozen or more grazing in an open field near the park's rock quarry. The dogs lit out immediately in pursuit, the rabbits scattered and, while there was little danger of their actually catching one, I called the dogs back lest they bolt through the gate and into the road. Much to my surprise and pleasure, Tass abandoned the chase immediately and came trotting back, tongue lolling, and with a most satisfied look on her face. Elky is so used to following her on our walks that she, too, turned around.
Midway through our walk we come to a paved path encircling the duck pond. A water faucet stands near the path, and some kind soul has placed a large water bowl beneath it where we stop for a drink. I usually wash out the dish and refresh the water, then step back to watch Tass's delightful routine. All the dogs I have known drink by placing their noses near the water and lapping it up with their tongues. Tassel, on the other hand, pushes her muzzle all the way under the water, blowing bubbles out her nose and sipping the water rather like a horse or cow might do. On our walks she follows this by placing both her front paws in the bowl and making little digging motions. Whether she's literally cooling her heels or just doing a little doggie rejoicing in the day is anybody's guess.
One of the things I most like is to watch Tass in motion: she has the most beautifully even gait I have seen on a dog. I would never have thought a stumpy-legged Corgi on the move would be anything but comical waddle, but Tassle has perfect balance and poise. Her ears are at perked, her head is high, and she moves across the landscape as though she were queen of the world.
