I am finishing out my seventh week on the ranch, and I must say it’s been a heckuva week.
I am mostly free to roam with mom, and sometimes stay outside by myself, where I patrol from the porch or try to herd chipmunks – they are totally uncooperative in this endeavor!
I spent a couple days helping watch those two little boys; they play with me, pet me and throw balls, so it was OK. 
I got in a little trouble for trying to herd the horses, when it was not requested from the boss, and once I went after chickens. In my defense, I thought I was helping get them back in. 
I seemed to get in a lot of trouble yesterday – I bothered the cats, I repeatedly stole their food [even right after being told NO], and I rolled in a big pile of fresh spring-grass green horse poop. Then I grabbed a chicken, but it was starting to storm, the chicken was running and squawking, she ran through our tree nursery… well, I thought I had to stop it. Lucky for me, the chicken was OK because mom hollered right away and I spit that thing out fast. 
She didn’t call me any bad names or cuss at me, even for that!
I knew I blew it, and took a wide path back to the porch. 
My humans are always sorry for yelling at me and apologize, even though I am disciplined. And then, when it’s over, it’s over.
But I hear about people that call their dogs all kinds of names, even in jest or supposed humor, and that makes me sad. 
Even if mom is raging about some perceived transgression [and I say “perceived” with the utmost kindness, as I’m not always sure I’m really doing anything so wrong], she never calls me bad names.
When I scroll through social media, people talk about how this dog is their heart dog and soulmate, but call them jerks, A*#h%#&, dummies, and lots of other nasty names. Why would you ever call the one you say you love, and one who clearly, by virtue of being canine, loves you – anything so mean?
Now I understand, even in my short time here, I sometimes cross a line and evoke a little frustration, but I’m learning; sometimes it is one paw forward, two paws back. At least I’m not told how stupid I am. I am not cussed at, humiliated, or made fun of. I’m a sensitive dog and I know what words mean, as well as tone and volume. 
So, for all the cussing, mean-talking dog owners out there – you need to practice kindness toward us, the cats, and probably kids and everyone else.
Change to a habit of civility. Here are some terms to use with us instead. Even good words shouted sound better than nasty ones spoken quietly.
Redhawk Rose’s List – Alternatives to mean speech, with some lines for practice:
Leave those cows, you scrappy little gem, you!
You beautiful cowdog, come!
NO CHICKENS, oh precious pup!
You are funny, fearless, flawless and had better LEAVE THE CATS ALONE!
Sing another aria, you angel! 
What a brave and bold canine you are!
It is the Heeler in charge, manager with the most. 
This Heeler is: Cowdog extraordinaire, Dog of dogs, Heavenly Hound, Prince of patrol, Queen of the ranch.
You are beautiful, courageous, steadfast, rock solid, joyful, relentless, kind and heaven-sent.
No one is more loyal than you. 
This is the smartest dog in the world!
Who is adorable and amazing?
My dog is spunky and clever!
Nothing you do will take you beyond my undying love, my best dog ever!
Speak the truth in love. I’ll forgive a little volume and tone, as long as your words are sweet.
