09/25/2026
I'm just at the precipice of losing control with wee Billy, at the grand age of 4 1/2 months. Ironically I'm just at the precipice of losing control of much-less-wee 5 1/2 month old Skye, and have to wonder if its the change of lifestyle. Regardless, here are some key things I've seen in wee Billy, and my next steps.
Yesterday she went for her first ever walk with her two bodyguard brothers, Johnny and Harry, and Granny Pippa, and a friend with her batch of dogs. She's never gone with another pack before. At first she was too much of a pest with Harry to even notice other dogs were out, then she realized, reduced in her size and presence, took a deep breath then resumed being an annoying wasp buzzing around her brothers. I was pleasantly surprised by her boldness, and got to thinking about how beneficial it is growing up with strong dogs like this. She's like a kid growing up within the mob, and the boss and underboss are her brothers. She doesn't have a care in the world.
As the walk progressed she befriended the other dogs and played with a German Shepherd. I could tell from her play, the speed and intensity that I had to reel her back and struggled doing so. Normally my voice holds in her head for five to ten minutes. I was lucky to get thirty seconds.
On the walk we ran into a wasps nest. Billy had three wasps on her, and came to me and stood like a trooper letting me get them off her. I was very proud of her for this - the trust to let me deal with things as needed. She bounced back from this instantly.
That night she did her first bluff charge on Rupert with resource guarding. There was nothing there to back it up, but she came forwards and that isn't allowed, especially on poor blind Rupert. She got a very fluffy, albeit long, calm scolding which had impact. Prior to this moment her resource guarding was melting away into nothingness but this was a spiked increase. She sat on my lap looking very sad for at least ten minutes, and it was hard not to laugh at this wee creature with the weight of the world on her shoulders. She sprung out of her funk and then ate her chewie.
This morning on her walk my voice didn't hold in her head for more than five seconds. When we came home she was grabbing Johnny's face with her paws and licking him frantically, and diving on him as he moved away. She has been carefully bred for hundreds of years to control movement, only the movement she is allowed to control is that of sheep, not Johnny and Harry, so I packed her into the car and we went to sheep.
Previously she has been incredible on her sheep, showing so much instinct and talent, but that talent was all coming from a place of insecurity. Children should not behave like a trained expert - if they do it is because they are too inhibited. She gets to see them intermittently to assess if she's ready yet. Today was another assessment day.
She walked in beside me like a trained pro (not a child). As she got closer, she took off after them, scattered them in eight different directions, put them half back together to scatter them again, put them back together, then stopped, stopped, stopped, stopped, froze, stopped, and exploded them again. There were moments of nice shape, feel and definitely desire, but she is hard to get moving once she stops. This makes me think she's still too young, and that I need more desire and maturity still. Though I can definitely say her time on sheep today was that of a child, not a pro.
We came home with a satisfied wee dog, that galloped laps around my house for about five minutes. Now the creature is sleeping.
One thing I find fascinating is she is growing up in a multi breed household. She has her mob brothers, but possibly one of the larger impacts comes from Mo Chihuahua. Mo always sits on my shoulder or chest. Billy thinks this is how it is done, and also sits or cuddles on my shoulder or chest.
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Monique Anstee
Author of As a Dog Thinketh and Lift Your Leg - the podcast
