Y'all know George and Ralph are the backbone of our Livestock Guardian Team. I cannot say enough good things about the Anatolian Shepherd. If you have never read the March 13, 2011 posting "Da Boyz Dat Watch Our 'Hood," go back and catch that one, it talks about their amazing instincts.
Somehow i have been remiss in telling you how we acquired them, which must be rectified, coz, like just about everything else around here, it is a good story.
Once upon a time....
We had recently lost The Fair Lady Dulcinea, our Pyr mix guardian dog, and were in need of filling in a gap in the system.
As we were traveling home from a 4H livestock judging meet, i spied a big homemade sign on the side of the interstate that announced, "Anatolian Puppies" with a phone number. I missed the last nine digits of the number, so we had to drive about 5 miles up the road to find a turnaround. From the access road, i called the number, and unfortunately, got an answering machine, left an inquiry, and headed on home.
Now, at this point, i knew practically nothing about Anatolians--not a clue about their history, personality or size. Pretty much all i could tell you was that they were reported to be excellent livestock guardians.
Very shortly after we got back to the house, i received a return phone call from a Mr. K., who explained that he had seven males left from a litter, that the pups had been born in a barn with goats (optimum scenario,) and that the dam and sire were from some whoop-di-doo lineage that was impressive, and yet meaningless to me. We had a lovely conversation, he answered many questions about the dogs, and i was darn near smitten already. After the sales pitch was good and done, i asked his price, which turned out to be more than fair, but still beyond my reach without careful budgeting and a lot of peanut butter. I thanked Mr. K. profusely for his time and information, apologized, and told him that i was unable to make the financial commitment at that time, but would begin preparing now, and if he would be so kind as to give me a call the next time he had a litter, i would be ready to take one then.
This was on a Friday.
Early Monday morning, i got a phone call from Mr. K. Seems he had a family emergency over the weekend, and needed to move the pups on out immediately. He had liked what he heard about our place over the phone, and could tell that we really wanted and NEEDED one of these dogs, and that if i would drive out there that morning (about 90 miles away,) he would GIVE me one of the pups.
I said, "Mr. K., i cannot afford to buy one of these dogs right now, but i am not looking for something for nothing, is there anything i can do to help you?"
He said, "It sure would help if you could find homes for the other six for me."
So i got on the phone, and in a couple of hours, called Mr. K. back, and told him that i had placed three more of the pups in good, working homes, and that each of the recipients had need of the animals, and were delighted and grateful. Did he want me to continue making calls to try to place the other three?
Mr. K said to wait, and to plan on coming out to pick the four up the next morning. I asked how big the dogs were, so i could get all my crates prepared. He said they weighed about 25 pounds a piece.
Tuesday morning, before the crack of dawn, Mr. K. calls and said he would meet me half way, and was bringing all the pups, be there at noon.
All seven of them.
O-kaaayyyyy.........
Now i start thinking i have been had. This guy must be a sociopath that just suckered me in and is now gonna pawn off seven mongrel dogs on a fool that has never even seen an Anatolian, so would not be any the wiser.
I called Susan, Dear Susan in a panic...What do i DO?? What if we meet up and i get a look at these dogs and they are half Chihuahua or something? What if they are sickly, or aggressive? What if this guy is a serial killer or something????????
Susan calmed me down, and said if anything didn't feel right, just walk away, i was under no obligation, and if it was a legit deal, we could figure it all out once we got them here.
Deep breath. Okay.
I set to getting my crates together, and now i am driving the pickup instead of the Farm Buick, but i can handle that.
Let's see...7 dogs X 25# each, that = 175 pounds of dog.
I know pretty much what each of my crates carries in goat mass, so was figuring i could put three, possibly four pups in one crate, one in each of the others, a couple were going to be too small, but heck, if we had to, we could throw one of them in the floorboard of the cab. It would all work out. No sweat.
Jethro and i reached the appointed meeting place and parked so we could watch the entry for a white diesel pickup truck.
In time, we saw a white diesel truck pull in.
Pulling a 24 foot cattle trailer.
Surely that wasn't him.
The white diesel truck circled my pickup and stopped.
Hmmm...perhaps he is on his way to the sale barn with some of his livestock.
No, the trailer appears to be empty.
Mr. K. gets out, and i am much relieved to find that he does not look like a sociopath or a serial killer, but is the epitome of "Texas Good Old Boy." We introduce ourselves and shake hands. Being a firm believer that a looking someone in the eye and shaking their hand can pretty much tell ya what ya need to know about a man, my anxiety is relieved. I am satisfied.
Mr. K. looks over at the crates in the bed of the pick up and asks where the rest of my carriers are.
I explained that i haul my goats around in these crates all the time, and that i can get 150#'s of goat in the big one, 50#'s of goat in each of the small ones, and that surely we can fit the dogs in there, and if not, one of them can ride up in the floorboard of the cab.
He kinda chuckles, and says, "You need more room."
He walks me around to the trailer, and i peer inside, and view the most massive pile of dogs i have ever seen. They were all just laying there, nose to tail, like the journey had plum worn them out. I had to look twice to make sure they were indeed PUPPIES.
These dogs were 50 pounds a piece if they were a pound.
The pile went from one side of the trailer to the other, and was at least six feet deep. And they were
4 Month Old
PUPPIES.
I said, "Mr. K., you said they weighed 25 pounds apiece!"
Mr. K. kinda scratched his head, and shifted his weight and said, "Well, they were....Once."
Mr. K. then offered to deliver them to our home, and after a bit of concideration, i decided this would be all right.
We get on the road home, and as we are driving, i called Susan, and told her we had scored a trailer load of ponies, and to get ready for hers, coz i was gonna need to move them out as quickly as possible. "And Susan, there ain't no Chihuahua involved here."
Long story short, Mr. K. pulled the trailer up to the sweetgum pen and helped me off-load the seven gentle giants. We visited some that day, and have talked several times since--him checking in to see if it was working out for us, me to tell stories of what a blessing the dogs were to us. You can make friends in the most unusal way sometimes. He really is a nice man.
Because what i had read about Anatolian's said that they worked best in pairs, and since i had such an great opportunity, i decided to keep two of them, and had all of the other five placed in working homes within 24 hours.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The End.
P.S. For those of you that read Susan's blog, Aegis was one of these pups, and for those of you that haven't read it, get on over there at http://www.queenacresonline.blogspot.com/
