autumn

Older

10/15/2026 by ladysmith@cowdogsadvice.com Leave a Comment

I’m a young pup whose had a lot of adventure in a few years.

I came through the desert.

I was rescued and flew up north.

I took the place of a great cowdog Ladysmith. In fact I’m next in a long line of great cowdogs I’m told.

Now I ramrod this mountain ranch, and am learning to lead with courage, yet kindness [just ask the horses – I haven’t chased them needlessly for most of the summer!].

We wrote about old dogs. https://cowdogsadvice.com/2023/10/what-to-do-with-an-old-cowdog/

And old trucks, old times and old friends.

It seems like this life is all about getting old.

And this is a season of old.

The grass is getting old, turning the hills and meadows that gentle tawny color; soon the trees will hint at fiery fall with a riot of autumn color.

I walk around here and visit the old tractor,

old Jeep,

old trucks.

I am too polite to call the boss old, but she walks with a limp sometimes, bent over and slower, especially since my old dad went home to heaven – nearly a year ago now.

The rocks we collected to build a new wall, are really quite ancient.

Even the sun this time of year, when it finally rises over the hills and stretches west, is old gold.

And I, sometimes twitchy and barking , relentlessly yip-yapping at any old thing,

am more often laying in the shade or by the horses, watching in wisdom,

like an old dog.

This is an old season – the year is winding down, the expansive seasons are ending, and working hard and fast to complete projects before winter, makes us all ache and feel older.

Thing is, all those old things? They still work just fine! The tractor and the Jeep have aged like a fine buried bone, their usefulness matching anything new – and with a cool factor that is unmatched.

This season may be long and old, but promises a winter by the fire, watching the boss read good books, getting a fresh bone once in awhile,

anticipating seed catalogs and a plan to garden and plant more trees.

Mom read this to me:

When I have been tested, I will come forth as gold.” That is what we’re doing now –

working and walking into this amber season.

Old?

That’s just keeping on, going forward.

Welcome October!

No Straight Paths

09/24/2026 by ladysmith@cowdogsadvice.com

It is still like summer here, we are blessed with warm sunny days, and nights that only hint at cooler weather.

I have been up north many seasons now. I don’t remember anything special about this time of year in the Arizona desert,

but here, it is always an inspiring world for me!

We have rain, 3 days of it, I hear. Yesterday, I felt the breeze cooling down, but it is not cold.

The nights still allow most of the garden to keep growing,

quite a blessing in the Northern Rockies, just past the Autumn Equinox.

The longhorns left today, and most of the cattle are leaving the high country.

There are so many new smells; the woods, dampened in fresh rain, come alive for me.

I can tell where the deer pass, where a turkeys feather brushed through the roses, where the hungry birds land on willows by my creek,

and where the infernal squirrels and chipmunks scamper around MY porch.

I go out in the dark now, since dawn comes later; I usually bark to let everyone know there is a Heeler on duty, but I don’t linger too long as I really don’t like the dark.

There is a lot for me to smell, watch, chase, control.

Mom says there are no straight paths anymore.

I don’t think she likes the system I’ve developed to direct and guide her, by walking slightly in front and leaning in, but this is necessary because nipping her heels has been discouraged.

I wait patiently at the door, grring a little, to motivate her to hurry. Apparently my length in the front of the door slows her down.

When we go out, I stop on the top of the steps to survey and ensure everything is safe. Usually mom waits patiently for me, but I hear “MOVE” or “Let’s GO” far too often.

I am certain MOVE is not my name!

Out and about, I may stop suddenly on the trail to explore a smell or track – this may cause mom to trip over me, but so far she hasn’t fallen or actually stepped on me, so it is OK.

When she is out working, I usually lay in the shade and keep an eye out for intruders. If it is the UPS intruder, I just bark a lot, but he brings me a biscuit! There are times I help her work because every job goes better when a cowdog sticks her nose into it.

I try to be a blessing.

There are times I run zig-zags around the place, for the sheer joy of it. At times I have to furtively weave a trail up the hill, to chase off deer or the neighbors cows, because mom has made it clear that is not my job.

Because I cleverly and casually work my way out, I get in a little bark and chase in spite of her unreasonable rules.

Back in the house,

there is nothing efficient about the kitchen layout. I position myself between the sink and the stove, so mom has to make a wide loop around me as she cooks; if I didn’t, she may forget to have me test dinner.

I also push my pointy nose in next to her when she’s cutting cheese or meat, or I hear the microwave. She has to go around, and I am hard to ignore.

So having a Heeler means no one will walk straight paths again, because we are here to guide, influence, turn, protect. Of course I make those extra miles worth it though.

We do all have one straight path however. That is the one us cowdogs take straight to your heart!

“Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.” – Psalms 25:4-5

The Trails I Take

10/23/2025 by ladysmith@cowdogsadvice.com

A man once said:

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and, sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler,

long I stood and looked down one as far as I could to where it bent in the undergrowth,

then took the other one…”

Clearly this guy wasn’t a Heeler, probably never met a cowdog at all.

I’ve been at that same place, two roads diverging, but I’ll take one, dart to the other, sniff and go,

back and forth until I have run the full length of both, plus a few extra miles,

and learned all there is to know,

from the smell of the dirt to where the sun reaches through the yellow leaves.

Now I think about the trails in this old cowdog’s life.

Early, in the dark this time of year, I take a short route just around the house, sniffing and peeing of course, usually barking into the black woods for good measure.

Later, after light but before the sun has come over the east ridge, my trail leads to the creek, through the bottoms, checking to see who was here last night.

I go swiftly and not too far, in case there are still bears, bobcats or mountain lions there!

I take the path to the coop, when we let the crazy birds out for the day.

I trot around the far pasture to check the horses and cows – yup, everyone still there and accounted for by the Heeler in charge.

I remember the long lonely trails I walked in the desert, and the long unknown one that brought me here.

We all have our own trails – some are tough,

some hurt a lot,

many we walk alone.

Mom and I walk together, alone on the trail now.

I stop on one path and look back – knowing how this will live forever in the heart of a little boy – and a dog.

This long one is a trail through time, steps behind us gone, and we don’t know where it turns ahead.

No matter which one is taken –

be sure your steps are resolute on the right path,

be kind and gentle to all around you,

look forward down the trail with faith in the right God,

leave only good behind you on the path,

take only good along as you go.

Like a Heeler, run them all with joy!

Happy trails, my friend.

SHOW ME YOUR WAYS, LORD, TEACH ME YOUR PATHS. PSALM 25:4

This Time

09/11/2025 by ladysmith@cowdogsadvice.com

It seems the past couple of weeks have been rushing, racing, working and being overwhelmed!

I guess I lean toward the laid-back end of the Heeler spectrum, because I am worn out and wishing for a little shade under the hammock,

with nothing to rouse me but the singing of the creek and a few birds.

And, like everything else, in true Heeler fashion, I will relish this unique time of year.

The light is gaining that golden burnish that only comes with long light, grass drying into amber waves, and less heat.

Perhaps it is more precious because there is less of it by the day. Here I’m losing almost 100 minutes in September alone, and we don’t even start autumn til later this month!

I dread the coming cold, hinted this week by a couple frosty nights. But they were followed by warm sun and 80 degrees, so were easy to forget.

I’m tired from haying and gathering cattle and harvests, and even think, for just a moment, that laying by a fire would be okay.

I close my eyes and can almost smell the sourdough bread baking. I am the official taste-tester of course, for that and everything else from the kitchen.

I sure will miss the birds singing early, and the late evenings when it cools and we sit outside, still I love the golden light and the colors that are starting down the hills.

I love watching the little boys pick apples; none of us will ever be this young again.

Relish the moment friends, whatever it brings your way. This time won’t come again.

“He made the moon to mark the seasons, and the sun knows when to go down.” Psalm 104:19

Let There Be Light

10/17/2024 by ladysmith@cowdogsadvice.com

On the first day of creation, God put light into the world with “let there be light.”

And it still is!

There is such a light on the hills as must be heavenly! Finally, though we still have warm weather, few frosts, and green grass, the Aspens have signaled their joyous intent, to come forth as gold!

The valley, I think maybe the world, is lit up with the brilliance of autumn, but even that isn’t enough.

The sun shines through the trees and leaves and flowers with power, that comes from urgency, stretching southward, knowing soon there will be snow and cold. It is desperate to shine gloriously today.

I can still feel warmth in the sun, but not like summer. It brings a long, extended perfection,

not so far south as to have lost it’s heat yet.

It is a good time to be a cowdog. I bask on the four-wheeler, as the boss works feverishly to finish her rock wall before temperatures deny concrete. I go daily to the creek, not so much for a dip these days, but for a drink of really cold water.

Sometimes we go to fish or gather rocks, and I wade a bit, but notice the paws go numb quite fast!

I keep an eye on the horses, cows and chickens, usually from a good spot in the sun. I still love shade, but find I don’t need it as much, and the sun feels good on my speckled back.

I take inventory of the many good bones I have stashed around the yard, knowing soon they will be caught in frozen ground or under snow. If I need them over the winter, I’d better make plans now.

We picked the rest of the apples this week, and pruned a tree damaged by the pesky bears climbing for fruit. If I could herd bruins, I think they should be recruited for pruning and picking jobs, but the fat beasts keep breaking the trees!

We planted daffodils and mint around the trees, supposed to deter voles, who are the bane of the orchard. I have caught a few and notice mom doesn’t stop me from going after them; I guess they are different from horses, cows, cats, or every other critter around and I am allowed to decide for myself when they need herding – or extermination!