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
