by Tony Parsons
But David felt that the months of his preparation with his young dogs couldn’t have been better. The first opportunity to test them came just after lunch on the second day of the trials when Needle was listed to work. After giving the young blue and tan bitch a walk around the ground, David headed confidently to the peg. The strange conditions did not seem to be affecting Needle. As soon as she heard her handler’s warning hiss, she was all business. Her keen eyes picked up the three sheep as soon as they were let out into the arena.
After one quick look at the jumbucks, Needle switched her attention to the hands of her owner. His hands were important to her. As soon as the starting bell rang, David cast Needle to her right, which was her best side, and she surged away and ran three or four yards out from the arena fence. Her cast was almost perfect, although some extra-tough judges might have docked her a point for finishing a shade short. Her stop, lift and draw down the ground could not have been faulted, and she did not strike any real trouble until she had the sheep placed at the first obstacle. A staggy wether took her on, and despite Needle trying to hold him tightly in front of the obstacle, the wether broke away down one side before she could get him back. A couple of points lost there. The same wether challenged Needle again, this time on the bridge. He went outside the wings just once before she managed to block him in. She might have lost another point for the sheep being very slightly off course between the bridge and the pen, but she penned with three minutes to spare. David felt it was a fairly good round considering Needle had a bugger of a sheep to deal with. He was happy with her score of 92 points. This was the second-top round up to that point of the trial, and the top score by a kelpie.
Bruce McClymont had a grin a mile wide as David and Needle came off the ground. ‘Just like her mother, David. Chip off the old block.’
‘Not a bad run for a first time on a trial ground, Bruce,’ David said.
‘Bloody terrific. You opened a few eyes, let me tell you. If you hadn’t had that staggy wether to deal with, Needle might have scored anything.’
‘That’s trialling, Bruce.’
That night David sat with his parents and Catriona and discussed the importance of tomorrow’s outcome. They had eaten dinner in the caravan, and David and Catriona had held hands under the table.
Anne sensed the tension in her two men. She knew them both so well. Andy, usually taciturn and undemonstrative, was strung up beneath the surface, and she didn’t like that one bit. David, although apparently nerveless, had so much riding on the events of the following day. Catriona also realised, even more than the others, how much this trial meant to David and his father.
Anne tried to prepare David for the worst. ‘David, you know this is a chancy business. Clancy might not have a good run. Don’t get your hopes up too high. Andy, you know. Tell David.’
‘I already have, and David knows that. I’m not going to roast him if the dog does no good. He’s done all anyone could do to get the dog right. Nobody could have done a thing more.’
‘Clancy won’t let us down,’ David said grimly. ‘The dog’s too good for that. It’s his feet that worry me. If they hold up he’ll do the job and he’ll do it so well people will remember him for years.’
Later, as he drove Catriona to her motel, David sought to reassure her that, win or lose, they would be married within three months.
‘No matter what happens tomorrow, or for the rest of the trial, we’ll be married, Cat. Nothing will stop us being together now. Go and have a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.’
They kissed briefly before David drove back to the showground, thinking that none of them really knew how much he wanted to win this trial for his father. Andy might not be around in a year’s time if David needed a second chance to win. It was now or never.
As for himself, the thought of having Catriona as his wife was so wonderful he could not put it into words. They would begin a life together, and he would have to put her needs and wishes above his preoccupation with dogs. But for now, tomorrow was perhaps the most critical day of his life. He had to put up a good score with Clancy to get him into the Open. If he couldn’t do that, he wouldn’t have a chance of winning or even being placed in the final.
Clancy was due to work midway through the morning and, despite David’s doubts about the dog’s feet, he appreciated that Clancy was his main hope. The crowd had built up from the previous day and there were several interstate kelpie enthusiasts in attendance. Bruce McClymont was sitting with Andrew, Anne and Catriona as David walked onto the ground.
David sat the big red and tan dog well behind him and waited for the bell. When it rang, Clancy followed the direction of David’s hand and cast out to the right as his sister had done. He was not a foot out from the fence as he made his out-run, and this time no judge could have faulted his cast. He was dead in line with David when he stopped. The three wethers took one look at him and came down the ground at a run. In so doing they veered slightly to one side, and Clancy had to work wider to steer them back on course. He would have lost something there, but at the race he was perfect and his work at the bridge was quite wonderful. The wethers would not face Clancy like their mates had faced his sister. When they looked into his eyes, they seemed to simply move away without any resistance. He would have lost a point at the pen when something outside the fence startled one sheep, but when the gate was closed David was happy with the round.
It had been a fairly fast round so Clancy hadn’t had to run much, for which David – and Clancy’s feet – were thankful. It was a two or three point better run than Needle’s effort the previous day, and it was good enough. The 94 Clancy scored made him equal top dog, and he held that position almost to the conclusion of the Maiden trial. Only then did a very experienced border collie from Victoria take the lead with a score of 95. When the Maiden trial concluded, Clancy had been placed second and Needle fourth. The important consideration was that both dogs were now through to the Open, and despite a border collie being top scorer, it was the efforts of David’s two kelpies – neither of which had previously worked in a trial – that had attracted the attention of almost everyone on the ground.
Up in the grandstand was a very old man whose name had become a legend in sheepdog circles. Wrapped in a thick overcoat and tartan scarf, there was a gleam in his knowing eyes when the Maiden trial concluded. He had been a border collie man all his life, although his dogs had had a splash of kelpie in them to sharpen them up; but he was not biased towards one breed. Back in the 1930s, when he had begun his long career with sheepdogs, he had worked against three wonderful kelpies that had wiped the floor at every trial. He had seen two of these score the possible 100 points, and the youngest dog of the trio had once or twice beaten those 100-point dogs. One of the three dogs had such power over sheep that they just walked away from him once eye contact had been made. The dog could put the sheep wherever he liked. Over the years, this old man had seen quite a few good kelpies, including the legendary Johnny, but he had never seen one that could hold a candle to these three. He had seen Johnny win every one of his five National Trials and he attributed these successes more to the late Athol Butler’s mastery of the handling art than to Johnny’s innate ability. No, he had seen nothing to compare with those three great kelpies – until today. He had liked the work of the young blue and tan bitch, Needle, but she could not be compared with the red and tan dog called MacLeod’s Clancy. Here, at long last, he seemed to have found a real kelpie, but he knew better than to praise the dog too highly after just one run. So he kept his counsel. Yet for all that, the old man was very excited. He was not concerned that Clancy had been beaten into second place by a very experienced dog. In terms of natural ability, the kelpie was streets ahead of the border collie. He could not wait to see Clancy work again.
The following day the Open trial began, and it was Belle’s turn to show what she could do. The brilliant bitch did not let her owners down. Andrew and David had always claimed that she was a
real natural who required very little training; more than that, she was the modern embodiment of the great kelpies of the past. David was determined to illustrate this claim. To Belle, three-sheep trials on a perfectly flat arena were simply a game after mustering wethers on rocks and in dogwood scrub on Yellow Rock. That was real work, compared with which trial work was child’s play.
As with all the MacLeod dogs, Belle’s cast was near perfect and her field work was outstanding. Head bowed into her sheep, she floated across the ground in her unique, effortless way, always seeming to know what the sheep would do. Her anticipation was so acute that she had sheep stopped before they had even begun to move.
When they arrived at the pen, David put his hands in his pockets and left the penning to Belle. There were no strident commands because Belle did not need them. Her holding ability was breathtaking and she was extremely fast. One sheep broke quickly but Belle skidded to stop him within seconds, although at the bridge she was not quite as strong as most of her kennel mates. Her gifts were holding sheep in the open and her wonderful cast. It was a top round which scored her 94 points. Bruce McClymont was ecstatic.
David had to wait another day before it was Needle’s turn to run in the Open. She struck trouble on the lift when one sheep bolted back to the fence, and she had to do some great work to hold the three sheep together. Her score of 89 was very good in the circumstances, but would not be high enough to get her into the final.
The following day it was Clancy’s turn again and, despite Belle’s good score, David felt that if he were to win the National, it would depend on the way Clancy handled his sheep that day. David was very nervous before the trial, but as soon as the bell was rung his nerves left him, as he concentrated on what he had to do. It also seemed to him, knowing the dog so well, that Clancy was different this time around. He had gained in confidence and was really on the job.
But it was not all plain sailing for Clancy. When they reached the pen, one sheep broke out to the side, just as had happened in Belle’s round. Hating sheep to beat him, Clancy skidded to block it, and prevented losing any points. It was a brilliant piece of work, but as David closed the gate of the pen, his heart missed a beat. Clancy was holding up his left front leg. Even before he let the sheep out of the pen, David raced over to Clancy and inspected his foot. His worst fears were confirmed – half of the pad had sloughed off. The enormous friction generated by Clancy’s skid across the grass had been too much for him. Even so, the dog put his foot down and shepherded the three wethers off the ground. David hardly heard the score of 96 as it was announced over the loudspeaker.
Bruce McClymont was beside himself. He had dogs at home by the sire of Clancy and he had a good Belle bitch as well. The value of these dogs had increased considerably because of what the MacLeod dogs had already achieved in this tournament. It was a dream come true for Bruce, even if the dogs went no further.
The old man who had picked Clancy as a freak after seeing his first run turned to his old cobber and said, ‘That red and tan dog is a genius, and so is the fellow who’s working him.’
Harry Marchant, who was sitting nearby, nodded his head in agreement. ‘You’re right there. That fellow won his first trial at ten years of age and I was there when he did it.’
But the High Peaks contingent was grim-faced when David walked the limping Clancy back to his caravan. Andrew nodded his acknowledgement of the round, and that was sufficient reward for David. Like his son, he knew that a lot of dogs would keep working on ruined pads, and leave blood on the ground while they did it, but they could not move as quickly as sound-footed dogs. In a trial of this stature, you could not afford to begin with a handicap – that could be enough to lose you the trial.
‘Half his pad has gone. It was that last block at the pen that caused it.’
Andrew nodded. ‘What do you reckon about it, Davie?’
‘I’ll bandage it and try him with one boot and see how he runs. If it throws him off balance, I’ll put boots on both front feet. I reckon we’ll have to find a vet and get him to give Clancy a pain-killer before he works again.’
Next morning, when they took the dogs out to Ed Somerville’s property for their run, David experimented with the boots. To his relief, the single boot did not seem to inconvenience Clancy at all. He and Anne had put cotton wool on the pad and then bandaged it very slowly and carefully. Then finally the boot was pulled over the top of that. David did not risk running him without a pain-killer, which the vet administered by injection.
Back at Inverlochy, Angus was having a battle with his conscience, and his pride, and Jane was behaving very strangely. She had always made much of the fact that their daughter should marry well. Now she was worried that she risked permanent estrangement from Catriona if they did not give their blessing to her marrying David.
‘Damn it all, Jane. You had more to do with Catriona than anyone else. You told her that she should marry well.’
‘And you agreed, Angus. But we’re going to lose our daughter if we don’t give in, and I don’t want to lose her.’
Angus didn’t want to lose Catriona either. He was also disturbed about his standing in David’s eyes. Clearly, David had a low opinion of him as a man. He had never concerned himself with what other people thought of him before. As chairman of every board and committee he sat on, he knew he had the respect of his peers. But David’s opinion had come to matter, now that he was a person of real substance. The MacLeod family had done more and accumulated more property than anyone else he knew. Catriona would not be marrying a nobody. And now David was down in Canberra with his dogs – and Catriona was with him – and Angus had a sudden urge to know what was going on.
‘Ring the motel and leave a message for Catriona to contact us,’ Angus said to Jane. ‘I want to know how David is doing.’
When Catriona rang back with the news that David had two dogs in the Open final, Angus made a quick decision.
‘Throw some clothes together, Jane. We’re going to Canberra. Damned if I’m going to miss all the excitement. I reckon I’m big enough to wish my future son-in-law well before the final,’ he said.
To which Jane replied with a simple, heartfelt, ‘Thank you.’
Chapter Thirty
When the last of the Open dogs had worked, David had both Belle and Clancy in the eight-dog final. Belle had received the second-lowest score of the qualifiers and Clancy the second highest. It was the best result for kelpies in the past twenty-five years. The other finalists were all top border collies from three states, and the men who owned and handled them were real professionals. One mistake against such competition could put David right out of the running – and didn’t he know it. He had waited years to win this trial for his father, and he had a wonderful young woman standing by while he acted out his dream.
‘So this is it, Davie,’ Andrew said as they ate lunch in the caravan on that last day. The finals were due to begin in a little over an hour.
‘This is it, Dad,’ he agreed.
‘Well, you’ve got two dogs in the final, and that is really something in this company. Don’t be disappointed if you don’t win it. I want you to know that I couldn’t have done one bit better, if as good, as you’ve done. I couldn’t be prouder of you than I am right now. And anything could happen. The breeze is getting up and I know that these sheep can be hard to handle here when there’s a wind.’
Andrew’s prediction about the wind turned out to be prophetic. The first finalist was crossed by the sheep and disqualified immediately. The second dog, a vastly experienced border collie from Victoria, handled the sheep well but lost several points trying to hold them on course. He finished up with a total of 92.
The next dog to work was Belle. Unfortunately the sheep quickly beat her to the left side of the ground as they ran into the wind. She pulled them across to her handler but was down a few points from the outset. She was used to lively sheep, though, and was very quick in her movements. The sheep were nowhere near as difficult
as the rogue wethers on Yellow Rock and Jimmy’s Mountain, where she had worked all her life. She penned for 92, which gave her a combined total of 186.
Because David had two dogs in the final, Clancy would be the last to work, making David the final competitor in that year’s National. When David walked back to the caravan after Belle’s run, he had a quick word with his father. They were both concerned that the sheep would be running into the wind. As soon as the wethers were released and smelled the wind blowing in from the mountains, they immediately moved off into it. This meant that there was no big cast on the left side of the ground for fear of a dog crossing, and a dog cast to the right could not get around to head the sheep before they were off course. Every dog had lost points for being off course when it picked up its sheep.
‘Davie, the very instant the bell goes, don’t wait to see where the sheep end up. Cast Clancy to the left and send him fast. That’s the best chance you’ve got not to lose points for being off course.’
‘Okay,’ David said. He looked as grim as his father had ever seen him; grim and determined.
David knew that what it came down to was having confidence in his dog. He would have to rely on Clancy not crossing if he cast him to the left, but would get to the head and hold the sheep in the middle of the ground. That done, he could bring them straight down the ground to the handler’s peg. Easy in theory, but could it be done?
