A Sensitive Beardie Sam 6th

The Resource for Everything About Dogs

A Sensitive Beardie Sam 6th

by Pamela Glynn

My Beardie, Sam, showed a brand new side to himself one day. Fact is, he displayed two traits I hadn?t previously associated with him. I?d best explain.

We were returning from our morning walk in a thick mist when, on the moors opposite our home, we found ourselves approaching a herd of wild ponies just as a foal was about to be born. Never having witnessed such a birth before, I stopped in my tracks ? as did Sam, who seemed immediately to sense that silence and stillness were required of him.

Sam silent ? Sam still?

Yes, we both stood silently as the grey mare lay down on the springy turf and the other ponies gathered round her. Sam and I were nudged by them in to the gathering and he was not the slightest bit bothered by this nudging, nor by successive ponies rubbing noses with him. He was part of it all, as I was, and soon ? with Sam now sitting as if immobilised ? we were totally boxed in. An extraordinary, almost eerie, calm settled over everything, with snufflings and such dulled by the mist. Sam held himself rigid, clearly conscious of something momentous occurring.

The ?bubble? beneath the grey mare?s tail grew as she strained to deliver her baby. Every few minutes she stood and stomped about a bit before resuming her prostrate position.

Suddenly, two tiny hooves emerged within their protective fluid-filled bubble. Then, after a little interval, the foal?s head also appeared.

Hooves and head protruding from her rear end, the mare stood again and stretched while I held my breath and hoped that her foal would survive this mid-birth exercise.

Now, once she had virtually thrown herself back on the ground, the stallion came to her and placed a tentative hoof on her heaving belly while also nuzzling her neck. I had the strong impression of a male feeling helpless at such a time and attempting to help by his presence, if nothing else.

Sam, meanwhile, had not moved a muscle. He was staring straight ahead as if riveted by events. Never before had I seen him so still or so awed. Sam did not even move when, seemingly recovered from her labours within half-an-hour of the start of it all, the mare stood up and nonchalantly started to graze. Sam?s fascination continued as her baby vigorously kicked its way from the placenta and endeavoured to test its legs. How the filly tried to get upright! Again and again she tried, with Sam and me willing her to succeed ? once landing abruptly in a heap as her hind legs crumpled beneath her. Then, at one hour old, all the persistence met with success: the herd?s newest addition stood, on wobbly legs splayed out haphazardly, looking mighty pleased with herself.

Only now did Sam remove his attention from the newcomer and look up at me. The spell was over. It must surely be time to go home and eat!

We visited ?our? filly often and named her Bethan. Her herd seemed to treat Sam and me differently following her birth ? coming over to greet us whenever we were in the vicinity. And Sam in turn was docile with them all rather than boisterous. Could it be that thanks to our shared experience we were subsequently seen as part of their extended family? More to the point, could it also be that my beloved Beardie had learned a lasting docility?

Copyright: Pamela Glynn

I think it was probably writing stories about Sam years ago for the Southern Counties Bearded Collie Club that gave me the confidence to move on to novels. I'm now a published author, often exploring spirituality and/or the elusive nature of Time. I?ve recently completed two new e-books, the first of which follows a baby bird along his most unusual path to maturity. This can be accessed via the link: http://www.dustysjourney.com My second e-book - The Portrait - can be reached via this link: http://www.pglynn.co.uk

Return to Index


Cannot find it here? Search the internet with the power of Google: