Difference between revisions of "King"
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| − | Source: Edward Ellsworth Laughlin (In his own words.) | + | Source: '''[[Edward Ellsworth Laughlin]]''' (In his own words.) |
King was an almost unbelievable stock dog. He was a white collie with brown around his face and part of his tail. He was a beautiful dog. He knew our cattle and horses completely. We had a pasture field that extended almost a mile from the barn and it was partly wooded. If I would say "King, get the cows," he would run down through the pasture and bring only the milk cows. He would round them up and bring them slowly to the barn yard gate, holding them there until the gate was opened. Then he would bring them in. | King was an almost unbelievable stock dog. He was a white collie with brown around his face and part of his tail. He was a beautiful dog. He knew our cattle and horses completely. We had a pasture field that extended almost a mile from the barn and it was partly wooded. If I would say "King, get the cows," he would run down through the pasture and bring only the milk cows. He would round them up and bring them slowly to the barn yard gate, holding them there until the gate was opened. Then he would bring them in. | ||
Revision as of 04:43, 11 February 2022
Source: Edward Ellsworth Laughlin (In his own words.)
King was an almost unbelievable stock dog. He was a white collie with brown around his face and part of his tail. He was a beautiful dog. He knew our cattle and horses completely. We had a pasture field that extended almost a mile from the barn and it was partly wooded. If I would say "King, get the cows," he would run down through the pasture and bring only the milk cows. He would round them up and bring them slowly to the barn yard gate, holding them there until the gate was opened. Then he would bring them in.
If I would say, “King, bring all the cows,” he would bring all the cows to the gate. We always had some cows that were not milkers. They would be getting ready for market.
If I said, “King, get the horses,” he would do just that. He was one smart dog. King was a very high-class working farm dog and earned his keep every day.
One spring, Dad had bought 500 baby chicks. We were going to feed them and raise them to be sold as fryers.
One morning that spring, we found King dead from poisoning. Someone had tossed some poisoned meat over the fence at night. Two days after King died, someone came in at night and carried out at least 150 of our fryers, just at their prime. That was a sad spring indeed. King was worth so much more than those darn 150 fryer chickens.