Folks have been working livestock with the help of dogs for several millenniums now. My former father-in-law (a good man, God rest his soul) was a master of this method, a true artist. My in-laws had a small ranch, usually with a core herd of 60 or 70 “mama” cows. This meant they usually had an equal number of cows to sell at a future point.
My father-in-law usually had two dogs, one of which was heeler and the other a header. A heeler moves a cow by coming in from their back side, barking, nipping or acting like he is going to nip their hind legs. A header takes the opposite approach. He will come to a cow from the front side, running and barking at their heads until they move the direction he wants them to go. Of the two canine occupations, the heeler has the far more dangerous job. Those cows can really kick, especially when provoked by a barking dog.
My father-in-law would sit in the cab of his old, really old, beat up white Dodge pickup truck that had “farm truck” tattooed inside a heart on its left shoulder. Other times he would simply sit on the tailgate. Through a series of whistles and barked (sorry) commands he would direct the dogs. Next thing you knew the whole herd had gone through an opened gate, and into a fresh pasture. It was a beautiful thing to watch the collaborative action of the man and his two dogs towards a goal.
Most readers of my little blog know that we have a wee dog named Lily. Truthfully, it should be Princess Lily, but her head is already big enough, so please don’t. In the mornings when she wants to be let out she will jump on the bed and starting licking me on the face and neck. This is not my most favorite thing, but it does get me out of the bed. Better up than to have to clean up an accident caused by the overindulgence in sleep by her alleged owners.
If the day is well begun, her trick is to sit in front of you and stare at you until it filters into your feeble human brain that she wants something. Now here comes the fun part. Depending on where you are, you may be climbing stairs or descending stairs to reach the back door. There may be one or more turns that need to be made. At each of these decision points the wee dog will stop, make eye contact with you, and make sure you are headed in the right direction. I have started calling this action eyeballing and her an eyeballer as it is very much in the tradition of heelers and headers. This time a herd of cows is not being moved, but a sometimes sleep befuddled or otherwise sluggish human.
Keep well.