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Twelve months ago this past January, I was moving 75 yearling steers every morning from a barn where we were feeding them silage and meal to a crimson clover pasture about a quarter mile away. They liked to have run me and my horse to death. It was then that I decided I wanted a good working stock dog.

One like “Pete”, a dog I used to own, named for Uncle Pete, a man that had been in the saddle all his life herding cattle for the Boberson's on Cumberland Mountain range out of Pikeville, Sequatchee Valley, Tennessee. Although I lived then, as I do now, on the farm I was born on here in Central Basin, phosphate soil, Blue grass section, Williamson County, Tennessee, I used to go up to John Boberson's every fall and stay a week or two buying stock steers on Cumberland Mountain range.

Uncle Pete would ride the range with me. He was past 80 years old then. Always carried a pair of heavy set, black and tan, “Mountain Shepherd Dogs” as he called them. He knew the mountains and what mountaineer’s cabin would take care of us at night. He would sleep at the foot of the bed I slept in, sometimes with 3 or 4 children. The rest of the family slept in the same room. They gave us their best, and boy, was that fat meat, beans, molasses, corn bread, gravy and coffee good! Everybody in Cumberland Mountains knew Uncle Pete was OK. But a stranger riding alone often would never live to tell the tale. Uncle Pete knew where all the stills were and kept a gallon jug of Mountain Dew in each side of his saddle bags, but he never got too much. He could put $2,000.00 to $3,000.00 in his saddle bags, buy steers, and tell you how many dollars he paid for each one of them. Although he couldn’t read or write, he would never come up with a penny he couldn't account for.

But I am supposed to be talking about dogs. Uncle Pete and I, or he by himself, would buy 3 to 5 cars of steers, corral them at a mountain corral, take them to Pikeville, and ship them home. We had no fences, no roads, just mountain paths in thick woods. The two dogs did it all while we rode in paths behind the cattle. Never lost a steer.

Well, Uncle Pete worked and trained the dog, “Pete”. I brought him home with me and kept him for years; till he grew old and died. He wasn’t just almost human; he had more cow and sheep sense than any human I ever knew. Including myself.

I have owned lots of stock dogs since, different breeds, but have never been satisfied with any of them. Pete ruined me. You don’t own many top dogs (or horse either) in a lifetime, no matter how many you own.

Now, on to my experience with registered English Shepherds. A little over twelve months ago I didn’t know anything about them, but I wanted a good working dog like “Pete”, and I wanted him well bred. I saw an advertisement in fine print in a Texas paper, and noticed the John Blankenships of Murfreesboro, Tennessee, bred English Shepherds just twenty miles away. So, I drove over there next day. I told Mrs. Blankenship that I wanted a trained dog, or one old enough to go to work right away as I needed him then. I saw that all her English Shepherds looked very much like old Pete, and that made me want one. She let me have a grown dog named Bozo she had brought from Texas. She told me he was an injured dog and might not be able to do the work I needed done. She wanted me to take a pup, but I didn't have time to wait. She let me take a “Mama Dog”, “Shag of Tennessee”. I have raised 6 pups out of her. The Blankenships picked out the best male pup for me and they have let me have a female out of their best female (no kin to mine), “Old Shep”. Now I have the two pups, 6 months and 5 months old. Believe me, I have 80 steers that are tough! But these two pups and I on a good horse are getting the job done. They are both natural heelers, as they must be to be any good as working dogs. I have taught them several commands which they execute properly. I find them very intelligent and very gritty, especially the female, a very low heeler.

We are having a rodeo at our county seat of Franklin, Tennessee. May 1st and 2nd, and the Blankenships want me to work my pups in the arena. They are going to have some of their dogs there to put on working exhibition. It will be something new here in middle Tennessee. It should go over big and be a big advertisement for English Shepherds.

The farms of Williamson County, Tennessee, are being turned into ranches, and we have fine improved pastures on our phosphate-lime soil. Several Texas ranchers have moved in here. There will be an increased de-mand for good working dogs. But, as I see it, we need more trained dogs. It takes work to make a good stock dog. If my pair of pups turn out to be good, I will raise some pups to sell locally, but they must heel low and work, or I don’t keep them. I’m afraid I am not as good hearted as Uncle Pete. I find English Shepherds are faithful companions. I was on one horse leading another last fall. I had them at a dead run, their legs got tangled, and we all fell like a ton of bricks. I rolled out from under them in some way, pretty much shook up and with a badly dislocated shoulder. Shag and Mrs. Ogilvie were both along, and Shag stayed with me while my wife got help to take me to the hospital. Shag laid her head on me and whined. She knew something was wrong, and she growled at the man that came to pick me up. So now my pups are constant companions when I am on a horse.

I am on the same 532 acres farm my father operated. We call it a ranch now as it is practically all improved pasture. We raise barley, tobacco, commercial Hereford cattle, sheep, keep a bunch of hogs on feed and try corn out of the Corn Belt.

My hobby has always been fine riding and harness horses, but I have narrowed that down to a few riding horses. Probably will get a lot of kicks out of these English Shepherds.

My oldest boy, Bill, unmarried, is partner with me now. Couldn’t operate without him. Walter, Jr., graduates from the University of Tennessee in June and will be a public accountant. Jim, 13 years old, doesn't know what to do. Katherine married a yankee, (good guy, regardless). They live in Stillwater, Oklahoma. He is a professor at the A and M College. I have only my wife, Kathleen and a grandchild, 5 years old, who rides horseback with me.

We all love the country and wouldn’t live anywhere else. Never made a dollar except on the farm. Haven't got many, but enough to live on. We are just plain farm folks that love animals.