New Zealand Life

Jayee’s First Farm Day

“Jaynee! Jaynee, come!” Mom called to our indisputably adorable Border Collie Jaynee. (Okay, maybe I’m a little biased.) I was sitting in our silver Hilux truck, given the creative name of Hilie, watching my mom call Jaynee into the garage.
“Good girl, come.” Mom coaxed the trotting little black-and-white figure over the rocks, up the wooden step, and onto the cement garage floor.
“Good girl!” My mom praised our puppy like she’d been elected president of the United States. The white-tipped, black tail wagged happily.
“Good girl, come.” Mom pointed to the floor at her side again, and Jaynee softly trotted to heel to my car door. Mom opened the door, and pointed to the space at my feet.
“Up.” She tells Jaynee. Brown eyes looked up questioningly, and Jaynee trotted around and around, unsure of what she’s suppose to do.
“Jaynee, up.” Jaynee sat down at my mom’s feet, hoping she’s doing the right thing.
“Okay…” Mom gave in, and picked up the bundle of black and white fur and placed my favorite pet in between my feet on the floor. Two white paws came up onto my seat.
“No.” I told her and pick up her paw and push them back on the floor.
“Hold her tail.” Mom said to me, referring to Jaynee’s feathery tail that at the moment was in the perfect position to get squashed by the car door. I reached down, and held her tail out of the way, while Mom carefully closed the door.
“Good girl, Jaynee. Good girl.” I crooned as I softly pet Jaynee from the top of her head to the bottom of her neck methodically. Mom went off to get some tool we’d need to clean up our farm, Emerald Vista Equestrian Ranch (E.V.E.R), and make it ‘flash’ as the Kiwi’s say. Meanwhile, I continued to pet the puppy sitting on the floor between my feet, admiring her prettiness.
She had been the cutest, by far, of all her siblings with the little bandit-look made from the white on her muzzle that spreads down the bottom of her neck to cover her chest, and then off to the left side and on her stomach, where it travels small lines on the underside of her legs until it comes out again to color her paws.

“Okay.” Mom got into the truck and revved up the engine. Jaynee immediately got up and tried to go toward mom.
“Jaynee, sit.” Mom told her, giving her the accompanying hand signal. It took a couple second, but Jaynee’s bottom eventually slowly went down, until she was in a sitting position, her deep, light-brown eyes watching her master.
“Good girl.” Mom nodded her head in approval. We slowly backed out of the garage.
“Red or blue?” Mom asks, referring to the garage clicker buttons clipped onto dad’s sun-shade.
“Uhh…blue.” I have to think a second, momentarily confused. Mom pressed the blue button and the two-car garage door began to descend.

Within a minute, we were at the bottom of the driveway. The wooden gate was closed. Great.
“Umm...I have to get the gate.” Obviously. “How do you…” My sentence trailed off.
“Swing your leg over.”
“’Kay.” I did so and opened my door carefully like we were parked to a car that’s too close.
“Watch her tail.” Mom warned me. I tucked the furry tail next to Jaynee’s side. The tail flashed out again. I repeated my action and slowly closed the door, making sure Jaynee didn’t put her tail out again to be crushed. I just barely closed the door, under mom’s instructions, and then quickly opened the spring-lock and lifted the latch. I pushed the gate to the other side with three long strides and spun to watch my mom drive out. I quickly closed the gate behind her and then climbed into the truck, minding Jaynee’s tail and paws.
“I can’t swing my leg over.” I stated, after a few tries.
“Just keep your feet on that side.”
“Okay.” I start petting Jaynee again, telling her she’s a good girl. Her first adventure to the farm had begun.
Correction: This wasn’t her first trip to the farm. She’d been a couple of times before. This time was different though, because she was going to be allowed to walk around in the grass and weed and everything like a real farm dog.

When we got to the farm, I opened the gate again, and then ran to a little shed my dad and a worker had built from a kit set, that holds our 4-wheeler Polaris Ranger. I got to the shed when Mom did (in the truck) and I promptly began to unlock the locks on the doors. Mom came over with Jaynee, who was so scared she was pressing herself into mom’s legs with her tail down.
“Okay, sit.” Mom told Jaynee. “Good girl, stay. Stay.”
“Put your hand up like this.” Mom said to me, indicating that I was to give her the signal to stay—palm towards her, fingers outwards like a stop-sign.
“This is critical,” Mom explained to me as she started up the roaring engine of the 4-wheeler, “because I can’t see if she gets behind and rolled over.”
“Uh-hu.”
Jaynee, of course, was staying perfectly still, though I could tell she was scared of the sound the Ranger was making.
Mom expertly pulled out the red Polaris Ranger and parked it so we could get ready to pull weeds and pick up some of the weeds I’d pulled two days before. Jaynee stayed still the whole time, watching with slightly-wide eyes.

Once we were ready to get going, we opened up the back of the Ranger.
“You think she’ll jump?” Mom asked me.
“No.” I nearly laugh, “She wouldn’t even jump in the truck.”
“Jaynee, come.” Mom said, “Up.”
Jaynee sat down, staring up at my mom with curious eyes, wondering what the heck she’s suppose to be doing. Mom sighed.
“Okay.” Mom gave in—again—and picked Jaynee up with a ‘wee!’ like she taking the puppy for a ride on an amusement park ride. We locked up the back flap and I prepared to get in to sit in the back with Jaynee.
“Get in your seat.” Mom said.
“I was going to ride in the back with her.” I explained the obvious.
“She’ll be fine. Get in your seat.”
“Okay.” I shrugged and sat down and reached my hand back to the carrier. Two white paws came up on the back of the seat. I smiled.
“No.” Mom and I pushed her back into the back. I held the scruff of her neck loosely, nervous that she’d slip and fall out and ready to catch her if she did.
“Good girl.” I scratched her neck, while still holding on.
“Whose a good girl?” Mom turned her face to Jaynee, as she drove towards one of the bungee-cord gates.
“You can leave it open.” Mom told me as I unhooked the orange Gallagher electrical bungee cords and put them on the ground out of the way.
“You want me to drive you over?” She meant the pine trees which she was going to have me help her sight.
“No, thanks.” I went off running, glancing over my shoulder to watch how Jaynee was doing. Mom drove to the top of the other hill, where the house site is, and I put my arms up once I found the last row of planted baby pines. Small echoes of ‘Jaynee, come!’ and ‘Sit!’ drifted down to my ears as our obedient little puppy followed mom around.
“It’s good!” Mom called out. Cool. I started to run back to were my mom was, still watching as my mom first urged Jaynee to jump into the Ranger, and then gave it and picked her up. Mom locked the tail gate up and then began to walk towards the drivers seat. She’s only taken two steps, when lo and behold! Two front white paws tucked up, two hind legs pushed, and Jaynee had successfully jumped over the back of the Ranger on to the ground.
“No-no.” Mom’s voice floated down. I laughed. Silly puppy. She picked Jaynee up again and placed her in the back. “Staaay.” Mom told Jaynee as she walked around the side of the 4-wheeler and got into the driver’s seat.
I’d already walked up half the hill, but stopped and waited for my mom to meet me with the Ranger. The vehicle complained with a whining sound as it made its way down the hill.
“Hi puppy.” I reached back and rubbed the base of Jaynee’s ear.

“Get your piles; I’m going to do some weeding.” Mom said as she got her green gardening gloves out. Jaynee was right at her heels, scared as ever.
“Okay.” I went off and began collecting the weed piles that I’d made two days ago, when mom had dropped me off to work while she went riding. Mom began pulling out weeds, with Jaynee slinking along right next to her. One time, Jaynee had sat right between mom and the weed. Her face showed just above Mom’s knee as Mom bent over to pull the weed out. There were only a few times that she was scared by the weeds and tall grass that she did follow Mom immediately.
“Let’s dump this pile. Where are your other piles?” Mom asked.
“Umm. All over that hill and some over there.” I pointed to the hill under the house-site and to the other side of the fence.
“Okay.” Mom then turned her attention to Jaynee. “Jaynee, come!” she called, “Good girl, up.” She pointed to the floor where the seats are.
“Good girl.” Mom praised her when she laboriously pulled herself up onto the floor and then laid down at Mom’s feet by the gas pedal and brake.
“Jaynee, you can be under the gas.” Mom told her, “You have to move, babe.”
“Jaynee!” I called, snapping my fingers, to attract her attention, “Good girl, come.”
We eventually got out confused puppy to turn around and come towards the space at my feet, in which she promptly pulled her self onto the seat and crawled onto my Mom’s lap.
“Awwe.” I laughed and her cute action.

We have a large pasture in the back of the property, that borders the covenanted area—a special area that the government does not allow you to use because they want to protect the Ti tree or something. It’s in this large pasture that we dump all our weeds. As mom backed up into the space, I ran and opened the wooden gate leading into the covenanted area, so that the cows and calves still in it would get out. Jaynee, was on high alert—probably wondering what in the world the big black things were. I emptied the back of the Ranger, and then Mom said that she thought a cow might be stuck in the covenanted area and could I please check? I had checked the covenanted area, and had come back, when mom herded a cow and calf right past Jaynee (who was sitting patiently in the Ranger). Nothing happened. Jaynee watched them, and then went back to watching Mom. Mom then went to push those cows farther into a different grassy area and called Jaynee to follow her. I watched as they slowly walked forward, Jaynee watching the cows, but obediently following Mom. Then, mom waved her hands a little with a shushing sound and Jaynee when running straight at the cows barking her brains out.
“Jaynee!” Mom yelled, and our puppy trotted back to mom guiltily. I was surprised that Jaynee had snapped out of her ‘trance’ so fast. The actions repeated a few times, until mom was happy with where the cows were and we all piled back into the Ranger.
“Jaynee’s found her calling in life.” Mom said. I laughed and scratched the little puppy sitting between Mom and me.
“You know what you wanna be when you’re older, Jaynee?” I asked.

We then went down to the duck pond to feed my ducks Peanut, Butter, and Jelly. I carried the new bag of whole corn and Mom and Jaynee came along with. PB&J were screaming their ‘quacks’ at the top of their lungs—as always—demanding that they get fed their dog food.
“Just feed them corn.” My mom said. Poor things didn’t even get dog food after three days of starving. I thought sarcastically as I tried to open the string that opens the bag. For some reason I’d never been able to do it. After failing three times, I gave up and just ripped the bag open. My three fat little white ducks can waddling up, onto the shore from the water that made up 95% of their world, and I scooped out some corn in a plastic blue cup I used to feed them with. Peanut and Jelly dove right into the cup and gobbled the food from my hand, while Butter (whose more cautious) ate the copious amount of corn falling from Peanut’s and Jelly’s beaks. Jaynee, who hadn’t seen my ducks since when she (and they) were little, then began to bark up a storm and all three ducks fled to the middle of the pond for safety, watching the big black-and white thing with its tail held high make high-pitched notes that echoed through the surrounding trees.
“Mom, make her stop, please; she’s scaring them.” I complained.
“Jaynee. Jaynee, come. Down.” Mom told Jaynee, “Good girl.”
“Thanks.” I turned to my ducks and called out to them, “Duckettes! Duck-a-duck-a-duck-a-duckettes!”
My three little fatso duckettes came waddling up, ready for more food, and started gobbling the corn down again. I smiled fondly down at my little birds that I’d raised from the day they were hatched. I threw out two cups-full of food onto the grass and then sealed up the food before leaving them to eat it all down.

Mom and I began weeding again. I pulled out weeds with seeds on them, while mom hacked out thistles. Jaynee moved with mom, being surprisingly good as our young steers circled around, watching her. I eventually went into the orchard to weed, and watched as Jaynee sat, watching the steers. The steers had made a semi-circle in front of Jaynee. Both dared the other to move first. Mom was the only one moving as she hacked away the thistles. As she moved up, she’s call Jaynee, who would then move up with her before taking her place and sentinel again. The steers would watch and then slowly make their way up and form their semi-circle again. Finally, Mom finished hacking out thistles, and called Jaynee. They walked down to the Ranger together—woman and dog. Who ever said dog was man’s best friend should have said human’s or man’s and woman’s. Nine of the steers backed off and went back to grazing, but one followed. He was extremely curious about Jaynee, and wouldn’t go back with his buddies (or mates, as the Kiwis say) so our smart puppy learned her first herding lesson with him. Mom was letting her go after him saying “Get ‘im!” Jaynee was rather confused, unsure exactly what she was suppose to get. But when mom shushed the steer, all suddenly came clear and Jaynee went into a run-a-bark frenzy.
“Jaynee! No!” Mom called and Jaynee looked at mom. Mom gave a little wave of her arms and a soft ‘shoo.’ Jaynee, who had been watching mom do this, then picked up on the trick. She then copied mom: she gave a little jump forward and a soft bark before retreating. The steer stepped back.
“Good girl.” Mom praised Jaynee, and they went to the Ranger and came and picked me up.

The last thing we did on the farm was finish picking up the piles of weeds I’d made the other day. We filled up the Ranger, and on the hill down to the back paddock, mom slowed down and then stopped.
“I want to try something.” She put Jaynee onto the ground and told her to sit and stay. We then rolled forward a little. Jaynee started trotting with us.
“No. Sit. Stay.” Mom told Jaynee. Jaynee continued to come along with us.
“Awe. Let her run along, mom. I mean, you’re not gonna run over her.”
Mom said okay, and said ‘come’ as we slowly progressed down the hill. Then, she sped down the rest of the hill at a normal pace. Jaynee had stopped. We emptied the weeds, and Jaynee continued to just sit there on the hill watching and waiting.
“She such a good girl.” I beamed proudly, since I considered Jaynee to be ‘my’ dog.
“Are you a hitch-hiker?” Mom asked as we drove up and stopped next to Jaynee so she could hop in, “Are you a hitch-hiker?”
“We take hitch-hikers.” I told Jaynee, laughing.

On our way home, Jaynee sat between my feet again. I stroked her pretty fur as her eyes slowly closed tiredly. She rested her head on my knee, happy with her day’s worth of work. I smiled down at her proudly. Then, she decided that she was tired and she curled up on the floor between my feet, and shiny black and white bundle and fell asleep on the car ride home.

~ Julia ~