Farm Fresh Blog

D.H. Lawrence wrote "I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself."

(But if you saw the movie G.I. Jane you already knew that.)

A seven month old Border Collie is a wild thing. A seven month old Border Collie with a broken leg is a wild thing that doesn't feel sorry for itself.

He doesn't.  He really doesn't. In fact, a broken leg doesn't slow him down a bit.  When not confined, or stretching his neck when he richochets off the end of a leash, he tries to sneak outside (at breakneck speed) with his little leg held up just high enough to not slow him down.  I'm amazed. I'm trying to keep him quiet, but at the same time, keep him sane.  Confinement is much tougher on Wild Thang than having a broken leg. 

I let him out of his kennel to stretch his legs this morning. He grabbed a kong, climbed onto the couch and proceeded to drop it off the back of the sofa. Then he raced off the couch to catch it, climbed onto the couch again, and repeated the process.  Oh dear.  He was playing fetch with himself.  Please!  Please!  Please! Don't tell my vet that I watched him do that three times before I stopped him!!!  I'm sorry!   I couldn't help it!  He was so freakin' cute!  And he's going nuts confined to a kennel.  But he doesn't feel sorry for himself.

He is the K9 equivalent of a 6 year old little boy running around with a broken arm.  His world has changed and he simply adjusts accordingly.  Although he doesn't cry or whine in his crate, he is pretty creative with his toys, and unfortunately, just because he's confined in a crate, it doesn't mean he's quiet.  I don't think richocheting off the bars was not what the vet had in mind.  He is actually quieter when we drag him around with us to run errands, since he sits in the truck like a little co-pilot, happily looking out the window.  He's quiet when the sheep are in the back yard and he can sit in his crate and watch Sheep TV.  But he's waiting. He's waiting for me to slip up and not remember that he has a broken leg. Then, . . .  like a P.O.W. he will make a jail break. He will slither out, knock down the baby gate, sneak outside the doggy door, swim in the pond, and return back through the doggy door, to play fetch with his soaking self on my couch.  (That's my little boy!)

But he doesn't feel sorry for himself.