The Great Scot

People talk about "heart dogs", the dogs that are so much a part of a person that it's hard to imagine one without the other, the dogs that change someone's life forever. It's one of those corny Dogpeople terms that make me squirm a bit, like the "Rainbow Bridge" idea, but unlike the Rainbow Bridge, the concept of a perfect human-canine partnership makes perfect sense to me. I know exactly what is meant by "Heart Dog". It's Jules with Samroc.

Way back in the early 2000s, I turned up to agility training at Perth to hear Tom raving about this Scottish girl and her dog, both just arrived in WA, and OMG, this dog is so amazingly fast that Tom was literally jumping up and down with excitement. Not only was this dog fast, but they could do things that we'd only just started to think about. Distance handling had just started to appear on our radar. We were watching the FCI World Champ videos and seeing these handlers directing dogs at top speed from half way across the course. Jules and Samroc weren't exactly at World Champ level, in fact they were fairly new to agility even in the UK, but they did have a solid system of directional commands and Sam was like a huge black and white guided missile. Jules could just aim him at a sequence, launch him (and sometimes he'd self-launch) and he'd blast over every obstacle at full speed. He's a big dog and solid power, and I've lost count of the number of weave poles that have snapped under the force of his massive shoulders driving through, but he could turn on a dime and take jumps and find weave entries at angles that seemed impossible for any dog.





Of course Sam also has a fairly effective auto-pilot function, which had a habit of flipping on whenever Jules was at all slack in her handling. But the brilliant thing about Jules and Sam was that they always had a good time on course. No matter how brilliant or bad a run they'd had, they'd come off course the same. Even today, they argue like an old married couple- Jules tries to boss him around, he flicks his ears back and does what he wants, she puts her hands on her hips and swears at him, and then they're both laughing about it.



It must have been something to do with the time they've spent together, since the day ten years ago that Jules looked over the litter of little working sheepdogs and picked the pup with the pink stripe on his nose, and then leaving behind everything they knew to travel across the world together, but I swear Samroc understands every word Jules says, which is more than I can say for most people! And he talks back, more communicative with his facial expressions and body language than I'd believed possible. Sometimes I'm sure he isn't a dog at all, but an opinionated Scottish bloke in a dog suit.



One classic Samroc moment for me was April 2006, when he and Jules came down to the farm to have a look at some pups (and ended up going home with Diva, but that's another story). We took Sam to have a turn on our training sheep. At the age of 8, he'd only been on sheep a couple of times before. He had a good idea naturally, balancing up fairly easily, but being Sam was rather pushy and was constantly up the sheep's bums, so Richard got out his Parelli carrot stick and tried to widen Sam out. After 3 or 4 well timed flicks of the rope on the ground where he was coming in too tight, Sam started to respond, but it wasn't the response Richard was expecting. Samroc shook his head in exasperation, gave Richard a "look", and grabbed the carrot stick rope, pulled it out of R's hands and flung it on the floor. After pausing for another glare in R's direction, he stomped off after the sheep again, this time on his own terms.



Samroc is an elder in the tribe Dog. He never fights or squabbles, he doesn't need to- Sam has "Alpha male" stamped across his forehead. Puppies absolutely love him, following him everywhere like tweenie girls behind the Jonas Brothers' tourbus. He takes this responsibility seriously, tolerating most things with a longsuffering expression, but cracking down on hooliganism with a hard eyed stare, and if necessary, a quiet rumble from deep in his chest. He's more effective than a stint in military school for bringing wayward puppies into line.





Sam was always a star in agility, a natural showman and athlete, the dog everyone stopped to watch. He was at his best for the big events and seemed to turn it on for the crowds, but he never gave less than 100%, ever. Unfortunately this drive became a liability in 2006, when he threw himself over a jump and into a tight turn and injured muscles in his back. After extensive investigation, therapy and rehabilitation, he started to get back into activity, but it wasn't until 2008 that he was able to get back to trialling, and by then his age was starting to take the edge off his speed, although not his enthusiasm for the sport. They travelled over to the Nationals in Melbourne this year to enjoy one last big event together, and the worst possible scenario occurred- Sam misjudged a tyre, which was unpegged and tipped over as he clipped it, landing on his back. He spent ages in hospital, and it looked for a while as though he may never walk again.

But once again, Samroc does things his way, and after months of rehab, he's on the move again- not as freely as he was before, but he's back to the most important things in life: being Jules' best mate and the canine leader of the pack.

I wish (as always) that I'd taken more video of Sam running, but this is all I've got: