What do you know about… Oh crap, this pu ...

What do you know about… Oh crap, this pup is gonna be a spicy one.

May 05, 2024

This is the prologue I mentioned in my story of Moses. It’s also the first of many, many stories about my blue heeler who I came to call Bluebug.

I’ve always had an odd “gift” of being able to quickly and easily identify many things in many categories. Aircraft, cars, firearms, dogs. Mind like a steel trap I tell ya. If I can identify it, chances are I’m pretty well versed on at least a bit of knowledge about its characteristics. So when my mom once upon a time asked me what I knew about Australian Cattle Dogs I was kinda perplexed and intrigued. 

What I knew at that point was rather near next to nothing. I had only met one once before in my life and wow was that an experience. A former co-worker of mine had one and that dog made a huge impression on me. His family had a few in their history on their farm so it was only natural he have one as his family pet. Her name was Taz. As in Tasmanian Devil.

Taz was the guardian and minder of his toddler son who was a force of nature in his own right as toddlers can be. When I met Taz she was everything an Australian Cattle Dog should be as I would find out decades later. Stubborn, tenacious, hyper-intelligent, resilient and tough all apply to an ACD aka heeler. 

Decades later now… Why is there a wild animal in my house? 

My mom had a knee replacement performed/installed which involved a rather rigorous term of physical therapy. Her assigned therapist was a nice guy to say the least. Raised in typical rural Indiana surroundings as was his wife and her family. Just good folk. 

She had a brother who was working his ass off to gain acceptance into veterinary school. He had a young blue heeler that his sister and brother-in-law were taking care of while he was away at university. He loved this dog and wanted to keep it however he knew his spare time was extremely scarce so he made the hard decision to re-home it to a permanent and loving home. 

Shit starts hitting my fan in 3…. 2…. 1…..

Mom called me during a rest break in her therapy session. 

“What do you know about, what is it called, an Australian Cattle Dog?” she asked with a certain je ne sais quoi in her voice she reserved for me when she wanted to tease me about dogs. 

“I know I’ve only met one and she was amazingly beautiful. Why?”

“Oh, my therapist has one needing a new permanent home.”

Now at this point mom and I each had our own packs. She had her Lab/Golden mix Joey and his little yellow Lab buddy Radar and me having my black Lab, Diesel, and Gizmo who was a perfect mix of a Lab and Jack Russell terrier. Adding in a wild card breed that wasn’t a Labrador would be a bit interesting. Labs are calm. Labs love to be loved. Labs are simply perfect dogs. But I was very much intrigued. It wouldn’t be either of our first go with a herding breed. Oh no, I had already lived with that bit of insanity. It just meant having another dog that would probably be smarter than us combined. 

Again. 

Facepalm. 

We set up an introduction with Blue as she was already named. She was already used to pack life as mom’s therapist had three dogs who roamed their plot of land and lived in the barn as did Blue. 

When we pulled into their driveway, I immediately noticed her. She was an utterly gorgeous little snot. She was wary but curious of us and looked to have assumed the role of being the boss of the whole operation. Her attitude was on full display, telling all the other dogs present to step back until she had put these interlopers in their place. 

Within approximately 14.6 seconds I was already smitten. Damn I love a dog with personality and wow did this dog have no small amount of sass. Once she was certain she had proven her eminence over us (at least me but I was already a lost cause) she came over for her requisite belly rub. Must pay my penance to The Queen after all. 

My mind was made up. She would be mine. Oops, reverse that. I would be hers. That’s heeler life.

We wanted to set up a neutral ground meeting of Blue and the four pups already at our combined homes. That proved to not being possible for a lot of reasons. In the end, it really didn’t matter. Mom’s mellow yellow boys were big softies, my Gizmo was happy to have another rowdy friend and Diesel, who was most certainly the king, was pretty much of the attitude that his position of being the big boss wasn’t under threat. 

Blue was in. We eventually decided that she would be in my part of our combined packs as she and Gizmo were showing early signs of being like peas and carrots. Consider this a touch of foreshadowing when it comes to Bluebug’s relationship building skills in the years to come. 

And then my world was completely upended twelve days later when my mom passed away suddenly and expectedly. My pack had gone from two dogs to three and then five. I was going through the hardest days of my life and I wasn’t sure what every new day would mean. They offered to take Blue back but I wouldn’t and couldn’t do that. As it turned out Blue was just what I needed to help me through the coming days, weeks, months and years. My Bluebug became a great distraction as I began to learn a whole hell of a lot about her and the breed as a whole. 

I learned that heelers aren’t a breed for everybody. Even if you are an experienced dog person, you still might not be quite prepared for a heeler’s level of crazy. I doubted at times if I had the fortitude for the so-called “heeler shenanigans.” But my dear little Bluebug loves me like mad and I’m madly in love with her in return. Once you get a heeler under your skin, it’s a forever kind of deal. 



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