MacKenzie Speaks

Hello—my name is Sir Alexander MacKenzie and it’s about damned time my parents let me say a few words here. You’d think they were ashamed of me or something. I am the world’s most handsome Australian shepherd and I would really like to visit the land down under, though people keep telling me that my forebears actually hail from California. Go figure.

Anyway, my folks have been racing around like hamsters on wheels for months now, ever since they got back from visiting their friends in Albuquerque over Christmas and found out that some doofus had plugged up the toilet on the second floor and caused a flood that wrecked a whole lot of stuff and generally screwed up the lives of every creature here for a good long while. I was plenty mad at them for not taking me along on that trip, but I got to stay with my Auntie Nikki and my good buddy Riley for more than two weeks, so it could have been a lot worse. I got to race around the back yard with Riley and tear up the pillows on Nikki’s bed and chase after her when she went riding on her new ATV—that was fun! My only complaint about Riley is that sometimes he gets tired of me chewing on his ears and biting him on the butt and then he just about knocks my block off. My mom says it serves me right, but I really prefer to play with dogs I can push around.

After all, I’m a shepherd, right? When my dad comes home from work, I’m awfully glad to see him and I just about wiggle my abbreviated tail into another dimension, it’s moving so fast, but then I have to go outside and sit on the deck and make sure nobody escapes on my watch. After a while I come back in and start trying to get the other dogs into their correct positions, but man, that is hard work. It was a lot easier before I got so tall—now the little dogs just walk right under my belly and about half the time, they bite me as they go. I haven’t gotten to herd any sheep yet, but I’m pretty sure they don’t bite, so that’s got to be an improvement. And my mom won’t let me chew on Belle’s head much anymore. She says Belle is too old and fragile for that kind of roughhousing, but I’m telling you, most of the time Belle starts it. My mom isn’t impressed with that argument, either, and anytime we start to get loud, you can bet she’s going to grab the spray bottle and start shooting me with cold water. I hate that! And I’m pretty sure she plans to ruin all my fun with it from here on out.

So my folks are going to the Nile Invitational over in Billings, which really ticks me off because even though Auntie Nikki and Riley will be coming to stay with all of us while they’re gone, I really think they should take me with them this time. I’m a cow dog from a long and distinguished line of cow dogs. Just get a load of my great-grandpa, Champion Las Rocosa Little Wolf! Here’s his website: http://www.lasrocosa.com/wolf.html

Isn’t he beautiful? Of course, he has a lot more white on him than I do, but I think he’s nearly as handsome as I am. I have to tell you, I think it’s stupid that almost all the Aussies you see in dog shows are blue merles. I am pretty glad I don’t have to go to dumb dog shows, though—I hate taking a bath and I’m afraid of blow dryers and hair spray makes me sneeze. My mom commented to my vet (hi, Dr. Dawn!) that I don’t have that long coat you usually see on show dogs, and she replied, “That’s because he’s a working dog—he has some brains. Those models don’t know a thing!”

Even though I love my Auntie Nikki, and Riley is great fun to tease, I think it stinks that I have to stay home when I could be a lot of help to the cowboys. Look at Little Wolf biting that cow’s heels—he even got to herd bison in Yellowstone National Park one time! I bet I’d be as good at it as he is. If Cody Lambert would just give me a try, I’m sure I could get those bulls out of the arena right smart. Then maybe my mom wouldn’t have to always be yelling, “Open the g**d***** gate, you pussy!” I’m sure my dad would like that a lot.