For the Love of All Pets, Great and Small

"A Pet, or companion animal, as an animal kept primarily for a person's company or entertainment rather than as a working animal, livestock or a laboratory animal.." (wikipedia.org)

For the last four years I have been an avid traveler. My partner and I have lived and worked overseas in an industry as old as settlement - sheep shearing. Three months living and working for a contractor, where we would work in a number of shearing sheds and farms across Australia. After that three month period came to a close we would follow the season around the continent in the search for work. Shearers in Australia have a choice to either pursue shearing in winter and work in Tasmania, or to shear abroad in the northern hemisphere. We were fortunate enough to head to Rocky's and shear out on the plains in Utah and Colorado one year.

The states is home to some of the largest sheep I have come across. The ewes in the states compare to rams in Australia. American's do things bigger! French Rambouilet, or the French Merino is a fine wool breed. These mobs live out around the Rocky Mountains, protected by an Italian breed of dog, the Maremma. A beautiful fluffy snow white dog with looks that could fool you. With dark wholesome eyes and a white feather duster for a tail, you will want to approach the Maremma for a pet. This dog is not domestic in any sense. Like the sheep it protects, it has a job, and its job is to protect the sheep from coyotes and other threats. Or so we thought..

My partner and I were fortunate enough to be in a cage with two unusually friendly Maremmas. The bitch had a litter of six snowballs, white fluffy puppies. What an absolute treat to handle and cuddle these bundle of joys at the early stages of their lives. Before they are taught the ways of their protective roles, maremma puppies like all puppies, lick play and tumble on your lap. The parents who breed this litter had been taken away from their heard of sheep and the owners had handled them for some time before we sat in their cage. Mum and dad maremmas were content with us admiring and cuddling their babies. These pupies and this moment with their mum and dad, was a beautiful reminder of how living beings have a natural state of love and acceptance, particularly dogs. This litter and these two grown dogs may not have been our pets but in that moment and for each day we visited them whilst we worked on that ranch, they filled us with so much joy and compassion, like any pet of our own would.

After spending two weeks on the ranch in Utah we headed to the Nevada-Colorado border where we stayed at an RV site. Onsite there were enough parking bays for at least twelve RV's, though there were only about six whilst we were there for those nine days. A gas station and diner, alongside a bar was all there was for 120kms. Like most parks out on the plains it housed a resident dog. Unsure of the breed let alone its name (I never bothered to ask), I was sure of one thing. This big boy was BIG. A happy-go-lucky dog who was a little overweight. The first afternoon we arrived we set up camp. We connected water to our RV and set up our entrance with a mat at the doorstep, along with a small step-up stool. During this set up we were approached by this big, happy, panting dog. He looked like a short haired dumpy German Shepard. With grey whiskers on his face and glassy happy eyes. His eyes were old, so was he. He was all to happy to come and say hello. My partner and I were all to happy too, to invite him up into our RV. Even with the help of our stepping stool he couldnt' get up, or he was too lazy to step up. Either way he was adorably overweight and I felt compelled to take him walking with me each evening. It was only ever a short walk, partly because we had no lead and partly because this dog called the shots. When he had enough, which was usually after thirty metres, he lay down. Like a retired old man all too happy to go for a walk around his ritirement home in the hope of tea and biscutes, he entertained my efforts and joined me every day for a short but sweet stroll down the driveway. He appreciated our time together as much as I did. His smiling panting face showed with this.

After our successful ventures in the USA that previous year my partner and I decided to head to Scotland the following year. It was suppose to be warming, but true to Scotland's reputation it remained cool. To be more specific about where I was, my friend had a property on the cliff side on an Island in Shetland. The Islands are a twelve our fiery ride from Aberdeen, and a rather treturous one at that. Not for the faint hearted, if sea sickness is something you experience. It was lambing time in Shetland. Beautiful mayhem for all on the Island. With a population of around twenty thousand people, those who inhabit Shetland have enough space to accomodate small flocks of sheep. An unusual concept if you reflect on the numbers that Australian wool farmers have. Mobs of twenty thousand sheep, not twenty thousand people. Sheep in such small numbers encouraged my friends on Shetland to bottle feed and hand raise their sheep when they could. Affectionatly named Caddies, bottle fed lambs are abundantly demading and playful. Bleeting heavily like a crying baby would for feeding. Their bleet sounding like, muuuum-mam. A cry for mum. A cry I was more than happy to see to. Lambs feed three to four times a day in the early weeks. Full bottle tilted up whilst holding and snuggling the lamb in close for a cuddle. Keeping the Caddie warm in the cooler Shetland climate. Some go as far to put plastic "coats" on the lambs when it rains, similar to little horse coat. When the Caddies run and play it looks like they're wearing plastic capes, which flap behind them.

A sight for sore eyes. One you could see from the kitchen window of my friends in Shetland. The window over looked the paddock across the street which was home to some of the Caddies. Every evening on sunset the Caddies played, they "danced". This playful bounce and frolick lambs do when in groups, is without doubt one of the cutest displays or organic joy. An animated kick, jump, and pounce, followed by what looks like a game of "Tag! You're It!", is like watching small children play. Like any pet, a cat or a dog, they are seen just that - fur babies, our children. And much like a cat or a dog, that is what these Caddies were for me, and for my friends on Shetland.

It wasn't until late last year that my partner and I decided to settle down in South Australia, where the mornings are frosty and the sheep aren't shorn in winter. We are both at an age where I suppose you would ask if we intended on having children. We talk about it, but truth be told we are more then happy sharing love with the pets and animals that cross our paths. Whether it be feeding baby caddies at three in the morning, or taking the neighbours overweight dog for a walk. Our love and admiration extends to these pets and we are so grateful they allow us to love them in those brief moments. Without holding resentment for us leaving, or holding judgemnt for our lack of comitment for having pets of our own, they let us love them the best ways we know how. Unconditional love, its all an animal knows.