The Ghost of Drew

Introduction:  In September 2003 we suddenly and unexpectedly lost our right hand man on the place - Uzi, the wonderful, faithful white livestock guardian dog, a Hungarian Kuvasz who protected the herds and flocks for six good years.  Within two weeks of his being gone all the predators around knew he was missing.  It was amazing, actually, eerie to behold, and shows what a good livestock guardian dog means to those who farm sheep and goats in the heart of the wild.

We began to see scat all along trails that led to pasture and creekside.  Coyotes were seen in the distance, their gaze intent before they would turn and run back to their packs.  One night a cougar screamed, making its presence known.  It was the day I went out for a walk near the edges of our pasture and saw four full grown coyotes walking a straight line, sniffing the air, in a nearby meadow, that made me know our vulnerability. They scurried when they saw me, but I knew at that point that our animals were again being "targeted" by the wild denizens and a loss was imminent unless we did something about it.  My goats and the flock of sheep just didn't stand a chance without a livestock guardian dog around the place.  

So it is that Mogen (which means "Shield" in Hebrew - my husband picked out the name) came to the farm and took up Uzi's job.  Mogen is 100% LGD - an Italian Maremma/French Great Pyr/ Turkish Anatolian cross. He knew his task from the get-go. We feel blessed by the Lord to have him.  

Mogen is different from Uzi.  For one, Mogen is jet black in coloration, except for his white chest and boots - whereas Uzi was white and fleecy as any sheep on the place.  Also - whereas Uzi followed me everywhere (my co-shepherd) - a "people dog" - Mogen spends his entire day with the flocks and herds, totally bonded to his charges.  We have yet to "pet" him.  In fact he totally evades our approach, staying at least 30 yards or better  from us at all times. He comes to a nightly regime of  good dog food in a bowl - (prefers gravy on his food and let's me know that) but he does his eating all under cover of the stars.  

Thus, Mogen, so adept at making his presence known from only a far distance - or by his vibrant barking in the night hours to keep predators at bay - has inspired this poem of mine.  I want to give special thanks here to his breeders, Steve Egbert of Guinea Lane Farm, such a great guy,  and especially to the little gal who I feel is so responsible for breeding such an excellent LGD, Cis Hansen.  'Nuff said, as Cis would say.  'Nuff said.

 

Some say that they’ve seen him Some say that you can’t Now listen closely to me – I’m not on a rant A coal black dog with a bush of tail A chest as white as snow White boot mid-way up one leg The other hangin’ low His tail waves like a banner Like a banner in the sun He signals to his charges That it’s time to run The ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew Black gleaming ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few

He runs as swift as eagles He hides in mists of gray That coal black face is regal While shadows on it play His ma, they say, was Maremma His pa, Turk renegade A wide dark forest is his home The trees, his colonnade His uncle Klick’s a rover Grandma, a French barmaid They never learned “roll over” Nor “sit” – nor “fetch” – nor “stay Their breeder was an outlaw Come from Shanty-town She wore a holster and a gun But never wore a frown She’d take a lick o’leaf And roll another one And take a puff or two or three (Hand resting on her gun) Some say you couldn’t hold her "Twice as wild as her dogs" But I’ve cried on her shoulder Watched her gather polly-wogs Yes, when all is said and done My dog’s an L-G-D A “Best of Breed” he may not win But he’s just right for me The ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew Black gleaming ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few

A bowl of food at end of day Is all this ghost dog wants He keeps his flocks far from the fray …far from the Big Cat’s taunts His gait is like a lion’s His teeth as fierce as knives His rumbling throat gives warning …to those who love their lives I saw his shadow yesterday Fast fleeting as twilight His feet are swift as lightning, He turned and ran in flight He listened not unto my voice He listened not to me Although I called with sweet rejoice All he did was flee Into the distant reaches Of forest and of glen …I watched as Mogen vanished Fast around a bend The ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew Black gleaming ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few

There are two ewes (they’re Shetland) He oversees their ways You see, this dog grew up with them In his puppy days If they weren’t here upon this farm We’d lose him, that is clear So queens they are, and far from harm As long as Mogen’s here Sometimes he lays his body Stretched hard upon the ground His eyes are fast upon his flock He rarely makes a sound Sometimes he sits upon a rock Up on yonder hill I think that he is watching me His black form statue-still He makes his bed under an oak With twisted wizened limb The shady oak, his resting place When evening shadows dim The lions fled so long ago When they’d heard he’d come to town The bears, they too bid quick adieu …(he just ain’t your average hound) The ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew Black gleaming ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few

Some say that you can’t trust him Some say to watch your back Some say he killed a coyote once Others say it was a pack Some say he’s missing sense A sense of right or wrong Some say he killed a she-cat once …others say it was a throng Some say that he’s a phantom Lurking in the night If that’s the case, this ghostly dog Puts real live dogs to flight I guess we’ll really never know For he has no lair or haunts He needs no pats upon his head A bowl of food is all he wants The ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew Black gleaming ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few

If you think you’ve spotted him In mists as cold as ice He’ll be gone around a corner Before you have blinked twice And if you chance to meet him He ain’t no lonesome stray He’s my livestock guardian dog! And with this ranch he’ll stay So don’t pay heed to rumor (They say he’s wild as wind) Just keep your sense of humor For you’ll find none better’n him The ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew The large black ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few

The first night that we had him He escaped and ran …His uncle had to find him And bring him home again Now, it seems, he’s settled Into a regimen He considers Singing Falls his home Our flocks and herds, his kin So, if you come upon him Give him a “howdy-hi!” I don’t expect he’ll hang around To give you a reply He’ll run off like a jackal Those feet’ll nearly fly …not a hair raised on his hackles (Not mad, he’s only shy) That’s just how God has made him I can’t well change his ways I doubt I really want to (Does this poem sound forth my praise?) For the ghost of Drew, the ghost of Drew Black gleaming ghost of Drew Some say that they’ve seen him Those that have are few By Alexandra (about Mogen, my LGD)

www.singingfalls.com

mohair@singingfalls.com