Belle Watching Over Her Charge

 It's Sunday Morning 7AM, just a beautiful morning already.  I step out on the back patio and observe the sights and sounds of the morning. Click on the arrow below and you will see and hear what I did while having a cup of Community Coffee Cafe Blend this morning...

Allow me to give a little background.  Belle is our Great Pyrenees Livestock Guardian Dog.  She's such a good girl.  She loves her people.  I'm going to be honest, though.  She hasn't always been real good at her job.  Belle was supposed to protect her chickens from the bloodthirsty mink that went through our flock like poop through a goose.  While Belle was asleep in our garage, the mink drained the lifeblood from our egg layers.  She likes us so much, she'd rather be around us than keeping watch over her charge.

On another occasion, a dog broke through our fence and killed a few chickens and Belle was nowhere to be seen.  I was real unfortunate.  We were feeding her.  We kept our end of the bargain and Belle was falling woefully short on her end.  And then something lately changed.  It's as if she finally got what she was hired to do.  It all suddenly clicked.  And now, she enjoys being close to the goats and chickens.  She's still a little leery of the cows.  But she'll position herself in their midst and sit at attention, scanning the horizon, searching for anything that's amiss.

Something caught Belle's attention to the west of our homestead.  You can see her standing up in the center of the photo below, observing and then barking.  The goats suddenly took notice.  They raised their ears and ran together in a pile, facing the same direction.

I zoomed in so that you could see her at her post.  When she was just a puppy, we traveled to Colfax, LA to pick her up.  The owners lived near the woods.  They told us that their adult Great Pyrenees would venture out at night and attack and kill coyotes.  They would come back in the morning with their white coats stained with (coyote) blood.  Belle is a gentle giant, but I assume she's got a killer instinct within.

Here are the goats all stacked up together once Belle began barking to warn them.  They are looking in the direction that Belle is barking.  I never could figure out what she was alarmed about.  I was in my robe and didn't want to be too immodest in the event that the neighbors were out and about.

In about 30 minutes I ventured out to show appreciation to our girl for doing her job.

What a good girl!

Our Dog, Belle

Belle is our Great Pyrenees.  She's a good girl.  A BIG girl, but a good girl.  Lately we've had some fierce storms that blew through our area.  As big as she is, she's a big baby when it comes to bad weather.  She hides under my workbench in the garage.  She will also beg and Tricia caves in and lets her come into the house.  She parks her big rear end in the half bathroom by the back door.  The next morning the half bathroom smells like "wet dog."  Not good.

She's been barking a lot at night.  We know that there are stray cats in the area and that may be what she's carrying on about.  Or we know that the neighbors have dogs.  If there are any other dogs in the proximity of Belle, she lets them know that this is her territory and it's off limits to her.  Regardless, she barks loud and we worry that it is bothering the neighbors.  We've apologized to them on her behalf.  They say it doesn't bother them, but we think they're just being kind.

Belle's job is to be a livestock guardian dog, but fulfilling that job description started off in less than stellar fashion.  When we first got her and put her with the animals, she promptly chased the chickens and ate a few of them.  She also ate the valve stems and mud flaps off the pickup truck.  She also had a penchant for chewing through the brake lines on my car.  I drove to work with no brakes one day.  "My dog is trying to kill me," I thought.  Those shenanigans cost us some money.  I'm glad to say that as she's grown older, she's grown out of most of those bad behaviors.  Except for digging holes.  That dog excels at hole-digging.  Not your garden variety hole, but 'fall in the hole and sprain your ankle' holes.

Fact of the matter is, we love that girl.  She likes to sit out by the barn in a dog house that I built many years ago for a puppy we had named Cutie Pie.  Cutie Pie was stolen!  What type of individual steals a child's puppy?  It is heart-breaking to lose a dog.  By the way, have you ever seen the movie, "My Dog, Skip?"  Wonderful movie.  I highly recommend it.

Stoic Belle

I think she'd like it if we stenciled her name on the dog house.  To be honest, I didn't think she'd fit in it.  She's way bigger than Cutie Pie was!

Smiling Belle

Belle just likes being around people.  She likes her people.  If we're outside, she's gonna come find us and get some attention.  Sometimes her desire to be the center of attention is overwhelming.  A few Saturday mornings ago I was on the back patio reading over my Sunday School lesson.  Trying to read over my Sunday School lesson...

Our dog, Belle, made it very difficult to get any Bible Study done on that particular morning.  Who could deny attention to that face?  Not me!

Belle is a Lot of Trouble

Our Great Pyrenees dog, Belle is something else.  Believe me, she is a sweetheart, but she has not yet proven to us why she has the "Great" in her breed name.  She has been a great menace.  She is supposed to be a livestock guardian dog, but she eats our laying hens.  Predators eat our chickens when she is in the vicinity and she doesn't so much as bark.  I think Belle and the predators are in cahoots.

As I drove up this afternoon, Belle was in the garage.  Beautiful.  Now I have to park outside the garage and far away from her.  The last time I parked close to her she chewed through my brake lines on the car, emptying the brake fluid and leaving me without brakes on a scary ride home.  Not only did this empty my brake fluid, but it emptied my wallet paying for the repairs.  

Back to today - I asked Tricia why Belle was in the garage as I had repaired her kennel.  Tricia informed me that Belle escaped her kennel.  We had her in the pasture with the reasoning that she would 'grow into her role,' getting to know the animals were her charge.  Good thought.  Belle had other ideas.

She jumped over the barbed wire fence and escaped leaving 'fingerprints' at the scene!  

We don't want her roaming around the neighborhood.  Although we live in the country, we still have neighbors.  We don't want her to get hit on the road.  We also don't want her to get pregnant.  As I type, I hear her barking in the garage and we're wondering how we teach her to do right.

We rescued an old stop sign from a ditch in the country.  I mounted it on the wall out in the barn after using a Sharpie to add a lyric from the Supreme's 1965 hit to the sign:

I wish Belle would 'stop in the name of love, before she breaks our hearts. Think it over, Belle.  Behave!

Doing What We Shouldn't Do

Our puppy, Belle, is growing into a huge dog.  She's a Great Pyrenees.  Centuries ago, Great Pyrenees were bred to be livestock guardian dogs in the Pyrenees Mountains between France and Spain.  These dogs looked after sheep and protected them from predators.  A noble pursuit, but it is kind of a pretentious name for a dog.  I am a GREAT Pyrenees.  Sounds like Belle needs some humility.  Here she is atop her own diorama of the Pyrenees Mountain at our house.  It's actually a pile of wood chips, but she doesn't know any better.

On Saturday, I let Belle roam in the pasture to look after her charge of cattle, goats and chickens.  She ran around the perimeter, sizing up the lay of the land, walking around the boundaries and observing potential threats.  Good girl, I thought.  I began to work on a project and would check on her from time to time throughout the afternoon.

At one particular point I found her sitting under a tree with her big front paws outstretched.  A big, fat hen was in front of her in the throes of death.  Belle sat proudly, with a blanket of feathers around her.  Bad girl!  How could this be?  A dog with the instincts of guarding animals within her DNA becomes the predator.  Like the proverbial fox in the hen house.  I took her out of the pasture, disappointed and a little angry.

As I took time to reflect, I calmed down and realized that this was a parable of sorts taking place.  We are like the Great Pyrenees.  Almighty God had great plans for us.  We were made in His image and likeness to to great things.  We failed.  Despite having DNA equipping us to do our purpose, Adam fell and likewise we fell. 

Despite having great intentions of doing good and being righteous, even, we end up finding our selves surrounded by a blanket of feathers.  Feathers of destructive words that come out of our mouths, vile thoughts in our minds, vicious deeds we do to others, amongst many other examples.  

Like Belle, we're "puppies."  We have some growing up to do.  We lose our way, revert to our past, and disappoint our Master.  As a believer, I thank God that He doesn't give up on me.  As we'll work with Belle, He'll work with us, instructing us in the ways He'd have us walk, through reading His Word, Prayer, and conviction of the Holy Spirit.  We're in South Louisiana, barely above sea level, far away from the "Pyrenees Mountains" of Belle's ancestry.  But one day, we'll once again walk on mountaintops.    

The Lord God is my strength, and he will make my feet like hinds' feet, and he will make me to walk upon mine high places. Habakkuk 3:19

Meet A New Arrival at Our Maker's Acres

Saturday morning we woke up and milked the cows earlier than normal on a weekend morning.  We had a mission to undertake.  In a painful situation that happened that I'd rather not talk about, we have to replace Big Boy, our Great Pyrenees.  How can we ever replace Big Boy?  I don't know.  We had several parameters...  We had to replace him quickly.  We wanted a puppy, and we wanted another Great Pyrenees that looked just like Big Boy.

Tricia got on one of her livestock-related forums and located a Great Pyrenees puppy in Colfax, Louisiana.  Colfax is located about 20 or so miles northwest of Alexandria, Louisiana.  That made it about 130 miles away.  We decided to drive my car.  Due to not having a pet carrier that would fit in my car, we rolled the dice and brought a tarp, some cardboard, and a towel.  Should be okay, right?

We arrived in timely fashion and met the owners.  Their Great Pyrenees had a litter of a half dozen puppies - 3 girls and 3 boys.  They were born on January 14th, so she was just 8 weeks old.  We had picked out the female that was all white.  We paid the owners, put the puppy in the car and began heading home.  The puppy seemed very content, but suddenly began drooling excessively.  Tricia was holding her in the passenger seat and had her sitting on a big, yellow towel.  Good thing.  The puppy must have gotten car sick, because just outside of Alexandria, she threw up all over the towel.  Fortunately, the half digested dog food ended up on the towel and not on either of us or the seat of the car!  After that was finished, she was fine.

We got her home and welcomed her to Our Maker's Acres Family Farm.  She checked out her surroundings and was really digging the attention.

Look at those big feet!

She is a very happy puppy, and I think she is going to fit in just fine.  She's got a lot of fur and has white eyelashes with eyes that look just like a persons.  She is fat and healthy.

Benjamin was in from college and he rushed out to see her.  He took her to the barn.  She is a livestock guardian dog, we wanted her to familiarize herself with the livestock she'll be guarding.  The cows were inquisitive and sniffed at her and drooled all over her.  The chickens seemed to pay her no mind.  The goats, on the other hand, were freaked out by here.  Annie, our Nubian momma goat began making weird noises.  She doesn't like her at all!

For being only 8 weeks old, this little girl is a monster. I told Tricia that she had better pick her up all she can, because pretty soon, she won't be able to.  Tricia obliged...

I did too!

Now we don't have a name for her yet, although we've narrowed it down to two - either Belle or Bella.  I think we'll wait a few days and see which name seems to fit her best.  For the time being, she's living in the barn.  We're being very protective right now, as we don't want the cows to step on her and hurt her.  In time she'll learn to respect them and give them space. 

We're happy to have little Belle/Bella at our place, and we think she is a great addition to our farm.

Where in the World Did Big Boy Go?

Big Boy is our Great Pyrenees livestock guardian dog.  That is a misnomer because we found out the hard way that Big Boy liked to eat our chickens rather than protect them.  As a result, Big Boy now roams free outside of the pasture.  We have a large 30' cable that we clip him to from time to time as he has a penchant for roaming all over the countryside and neighbors bring him back.  Several times we've had to drive down the road and pick him up.

He still has all of his male (ahem) equipment, so I would assume that he is seeking lady friends, but he is a free spirit and likes to roam.  One day I was approached in my front yard by a neighbor who, as politely as he could, mentioned to me that Big Boy had marked his territory at his house by peeing on his chrome Harley Davidson motorcycle.  Being a free spirit can get you in trouble with the neighbors! But for all intents and purposes, he is a good dog.  He barks at strangers that drive up in the yard until he gets to know them.  He catches and kills possums and other varmints.  He is protective of us and I appreciate that.

He has some bad habits other than chicken killing, though.  Big Boy digs holes.  Big holes. Everywhere.  You would think that he would stick to one hole, but no, he doesn't.  He digs a crater, lays in it for a while, and then digs another crater elsewhere.  It drives me nuts.  When a good rain comes, all the loose dirt from his digging washes away, leaving us with an erosion problem.  In the photo below, you can see his replica of the Grand Canyon underneath the trampoline and to the right of the trampoline, in the center of the photo and then in the bottom left of the photo. When we walk out to milk the cows, we have to exercise caution to not fall in the holes and twist an ankle.

Big Boy's holes are exceedingly annoying to me, but we still like him.  He's almost like one of the family. We all have our warts and "issues," don't we?  Saturday morning when we all left for the livestock show in Lake Charles, we saw Big Boy laying in a fresh-dug hole in a new place.  I shook my head.

When we returned Saturday night, Big Boy was nowhere to be found.  I didn't think much of it.  He was probably out on "maneuvers."  But Sunday morning when he wasn't home, Tricia and I became concerned. Did he get hit by a car?  I didn't see a big white carcass anywhere in the road.  Did someone steal him?  Well, they'd return him once he commenced to digging up their yard.  When we got back home from church - still no Big Boy.  Although we didn't verbally express it, we were all worried.  It was quiet and different around the house without the big guy.  We were sad, but kept a stiff upper lip.

Sunday evening we were driving back from Evening Services at church.  Our church is about a mile away from our home.  I was driving and Tricia was in the passenger seat with Benjamin in the back.  Suddenly, Tricia yelled, "LOOK!  THERE'S BIG BOY!"  I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that I almost ran off the road.  She scared me with the yelling.  Sure enough, walking in the ditch on the west side of State Highway 26 was the big old white hole digger himself.  I honked the horn and he recognized us and quickened his pace.

We drove on home and got out of the car and clapped and called him.  Pretty soon he came trotting up to us.  He was dirty.  It looked like he had walked through mud. And he was tired.  Exhausted, even. For the next day and a half, he wasn't the same. He laid around and rested.  Why, he didn't even have the energy to dig any holes.

Tired Boy

Tricia theorizes that he missed us, thought we were in trouble, and set off to find us and rescue 'his people'.  He may have followed us to Lake Charles (41 miles away) for all we know.  While I was happy that our erosion problem slowed down for a few days, it was sure nice to have Big Boy back home.  Welcome Home, Big Boy!

A Good Summertime Haircut

The summertime heat and humidity really takes it out of you.  We did a lot of sweating this weekend. I got a short summertime haircut and it helps somewhat.  Animals struggle in the heat, too.  Big Boy is our Great Pyrenees dog.  The breed has origins back to the Pyrenees mountains which border France and Spain where they were used as livestock guardian dogs for shepherds in the mountains.

Our Maker's Acres Family farm sits in a rural setting at a whopping 22 feet above sea level.  That is quite a difference from the Pyrenees Mountains!  So I felt sorry for ol' Big Boy as I saw him in the shade under the trampoline, digging one of his huge holes that he digs to get comfortable in the cool dirt.

Big Boy in his foxhole

But I had a plan.  If a short haircut could help me feel more comfortable in the heat, perhaps it would do the same for Big Boy.  "Here Big Boy!"  He came lumbering out of his most recently dug crater.

I enlisted Benjamin's help and we got our livestock clippers from out of the attic.  These are the clippers that we use to groom the dairy cows before the livestock shows.  Benjamin plugged them in and fired up the clippers.

Benjamin the Barber

Big swaths of white hair began falling off of Big Boy with each pass of the clipper.  The blades on the clipper were really dull and Big Boy's hair was really thick, making it hard to do a good job, but as Benjamin and I justified, every bit of hair that comes off has got to feel cooler and better for Ol' Big Boy.

Take a little off the top, please.

Finally, we were done.  Or at least as done as we were going to get.  Tricia came out and said, "Big Boy, you look terrible!"  Okay, Dog Groomers, we are not!  Benjamin will not be in contention for any American Kennel Club dog grooming awards.  But, I know that Big Boy felt better once we finished and he doesn't have access to a mirror.

Would you look at all the white fur scattered across the yard?!  You would sweat that it snowed in June!

Poor Big Boy!

When we were finished, Big Boy lumbered back to his nest under the trampoline, closed his eyes and wondered what one has to do to get a good haircut anymore?

Maybe in a few weeks we can put sharpened blades on the clippers and spruce things up a bit.  Until then, his haircut at least provides him with a bit of a respite from the sweltering heat of summer.

Checking in on Big Boy

Big Boy is our Great Pyrenees livestock guard dog that we adopted.  We haven't talked about him lately. He is certainly a beautiful dog.  He hasn't worked out exactly as planned.  When we originally put him out in the pasture, he chased the chickens and barked incessantly at the cows.  One day I caught him with a chicken in his mouth and I knew we couldn't trust him for a while.  I think he was only playing, but he was playing too rough.

We got a heavy duty 30 foot cable with a tie down and put him in the pasture.  He has a good area to run around without getting in trouble.  We also let him run free, but the old boy runs around and gets in trouble. He ran down the road to a neighbor's house and must have done something because we heard the neighbor shooting a shotgun in the air to scare him off.  Big boy also digs holes.  Lots of holes.  Holes that hold water.

Big boy likes digging big holes

The people that we got him from gave him to us because he liked to roam around.  In fact he had gotten shot on one of his maneuvers.  You'd think he would learn his lesson, right?  It is such a dilemma.  I don't like him tied down all the time, even if it is at the end of a 30 foot cable, but when we let him go, he runs across busy roads where he could get hit by a car or goes to a neighbor's house and has the potential of getting shot. We're considering putting in an invisible electric fence with a collar, but some of those are pretty pricey.

He's a cool dog and we like him.  Sometimes he just chills out on the back patio.

What's up?

A profile shot of the hipster dog.

He is a good guard dog and barks his head off when strangers come down the driveway.  Benjamin has trained him to sit and shake hands.  If we could just teach him to not roam, not put chickens in his mouth, and not dig enormous holes, we'd be in business.

Big Boy

Nah, not this guy...  I wonder what happened to him, though.  As a kid I remember seeing him in front of Shoney's restaurants, if I recall correctly.  On family vacations we'd stop and eat at Big boy restaurants sometimes.  I never see him anymore.

No the Big Boy I'm referring to takes a little explaining.  If you've been keeping up with us we've had a raccoon (we think) that has been killing our chickens.  We've tried this:



A leg-hold trap

And we've tried this...

A big cage-trap in the pasture up against the chicken tractor

And we've tried this...

A medium cage trap outside the pasture against the woods

So far, other than catching the neighbor's cat and an opossum, we're striking out.  Time for Plan B and that is where Big Boy comes in.  I introduce you to Big Boy, our new livestock guardian dog.  He is a Great Pyrenees, an old breed that has been used for centuries by shepherds in northern Spain and southern France to protect their sheep and we are hoping that he will protect our chickens.    

Big Boy, friend of chickens and worst nightmare of raccoons

He is a very gentle and affectionate dog that has grown on the whole family quickly.  A friend knew about our predator problem and just happened to hear that Big Boy was available.  The price tag on Big Boy was affordable - "Free to a good home" and so we picked him up.


I'm a nice guy, really.

So we placed him in the pasture for the first day in his guardian role.  He did not chase the chickens and acted real laid back and just scoped out the territory.


To Protect and Serve

Only one problem with Big Boy, Rosie and Daisy, our two Jersey cows, do not like him in "their" pasture.  They came to check out the newcomer and starting rushing toward him threateningly.  Big Boy started to bark, but it was clear the cows were on the attack.  We had to remove him from the pasture as we were kind of afraid for his safety since, even though he's big, they weigh probably a combined 1,600 pounds more than him. 

Not worried about the two behind the electric fence, but worried about these two bullies charging me in this paddock!

This is going to take a little time to get the cows acclimated to the newest member of the family, but they will.  Each day we've been walking him in the pasture and getting the girls used to him.  It's working.  They're being nicer.  Tomorrow we'll put him back in the pasture and see how it goes.

In the meantime, we keep the cage traps baited until Big Boy completes orientation and starts work full time.