A conversation

Scene: a hillside track, late afternoon. I’m leaning out of the ute window, R is on the motorbike. He’s a bit flushed, which could be sunburn or the sudden drop in temperature as the evening sets in. We’re watching the last of the mob disappear over the rise ahead, with Charlie and Bonnie loping behind them.
R: You know what’s different about kelpies?
Me: No, I really don’t.
R: You don’t have to SAY anything.
Me: Because you’d be wasting your breath, they don’t listen to anything you say?
R: No, seriously. That’s what it is- with border collies, it’s always, “come here, go there, sit down, stop that!”  With kelpies… Well, Charlie’s a really smart dog.  He knows when those sheep are going to break into the bush, and he’ll just go out there and block them before they even do it. And he just goes far enough, and doesn’t cause any trouble. He’s actually a really smart dog.
Me: Oookaaay.
R: (nods towards gateway, out of sight over hill, where rising dust indicates that the mob are passing through) They could just do this all themselves. I don’t need to say anything.
Silence. The sheep and dogs have moved away out of sight. The shadows of the standing trees and boulders have melted out towards the east, converging into dusk.  It’s getting cold.
Me: Well, if that’s done, do you need any more help?
R: (looks away over hillside, relaxed smile on his face) No, I’ll just take a lap around the paddock and meet you at home.