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“She hasn’t got papers so she’s cheap. But the only possible father is that champion dog of the Dukes at Dynasty Downs.”
“The Dukes,” I scoffed. “Bet Duke Senior would charge an arm and a leg to say it was his dog who sired Ruby.”
Chooky tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Cameron Duke Senior drives a hard bargain. But it’s true. Their champion male dog was the only one around my bitch when she was on heat. Ruby was their only pup. Unusual, but what a pup, ay?”
A Babydoll ram lamb made a sudden break from the flock. Rusty tore after him, with Ruby creeping low across the ground from the other side, ready to jump in and head off the escapee back towards the gate.
“Check out the gonads on that ram,” Chooky murmured, watching Ruby and the Babydoll ram play a game of dodge.
“The full package with the ladies. Small, cute and woolly and has an amazing set of gonads.” I chuckled.
“You’ve been called worse, baby brother,” Ryan quipped as he appeared beside us.
Chooky barked a laugh, which soon turned into a hacking cough.
“That the new dog?” Ryan pointed to Ruby chasing two ewes back towards the gate, with Rusty leading the way.
“That’s her.” Chooky’s chest puffed out with pride. “Ruby Red Legs, or Ruby for short.”
“Good natural instinct,” I said carefully as Ruby nipped at several sheep’s heels without latching on and then retreated, ever vigilant for more escape attempts. Ryan grunted. I took that as a reluctant agreement. “Gets on well with Rusty.”
A half-heartedwoofcame from our feet. “Seems Reggie has the same opinion,” Chooky said.
“Ha.” Ryan scratched his chin. “Ruby does look good out there.”
Chooky hummed. “Yer Babydolls are looking good. I’m hearing there’s a demand for them from hobby farmers at recent sales.”
“That’s what we’re hoping come the annual sales in spring.” I sighed.
“Where’s yer Aussie Whites then? Don’t see any in this lot.”
Ryan huffed, which sounded more like a growl.
“They got away from us.” I kept my eyes on Ruby and ignored Ryan. “Had a few fallen fences. Wombats have been pushing over our posts.”
“And a wild dog got one a while back, found the carcass yesterday on the national park border,” Ryan added.
“Hmmm. Haven’t heard anything about wild dogs moving around these parts,” Chooky mused before calling Ruby again.
“Neither have we,” I said, “but it’s good to hear you haven’t either.”
Ryan slipped through the fencing wire and wandered to the gate, where the dogs had successfully herded the sheep through with little fuss.
“Expensive herd to get away from you.” Chooky let a piercing whistle rip, and the dogs retreated to his side. “Them Whites are getting great prices down south.”
“They are?”
“The few that were up for sale. Not many graziers are selling.” Chooky shrugged. “Was three months ago.”
“That’s why I asked you here today. Keen on doing a muster, as well as Ruby? We need to get into the back country to find the sheep. Need you and your dogs to help if you’re available now.”
“Yer pushing things, son. This is my busiest time of year.” Chooky sighed. “If you take Ruby like you said, I’ll make it work.”
I nodded, thankful. Relief coursed through me. “Great. That’s really great, and yeah, I think Ruby will be good with Rusty in the field.”
“You said high country. You mean up near the old hut?”
“Yeah, looks like they all headed up that way. I’ve got a drone on loan from the university that I’ll take with me to see if I can get visuals on them. Take some guesswork out.”
