I met one of Angus’ latest pups last night.

The pup was supposed to be a replacement for one I gave our friend’s kid. He’s three now, and when his dog was run over and killed this fall, he was devastated. His uncle had a female from one of our lines, and she was coming into heat right about then, so I bred Angus to her in February.

She only had four pups, which isn’t too surprising considering he only bred her once.

They brought theirs home last night—she’s a ringer for the original one I gave them, although the red comes from a whole different line. She is a half sister to their original dog.

The kid went nuts when they brought her home. He said, “Rave’s back,” and, “she makes me happy.” He’s three; he doesn’t really get that this is a different dog. The parents tried to encourage a different name, but Rave she is. It doesn’t matter; the puppy won’t care.

Apparently she was the only true red and white dog in the litter, so they were lucky she was a female. There was one black and white, and the other two red dogs are red tri-colors, which isn’t real common. I’ve only bred one, and seen one other. I guess they have a lot of white on them too, which makes sense. That particular red line throws a lot of white. I’d love to have one of the red tri’s, but I think they’re all spoken for.

I can’t deal with the dogs I have anyway. Jessie has been demoted to strictly pet. I’m not going to bother working with her as much as Angus. Three years, and she’s proven somewhat less than trainable. She does keep the goat happy in the yard, and I think that if she weren’t there, Angus would do a lot more running. So I guess she’s my pets’ pet. She likes me, but she just doesn’t answer to me, and I can’t get Angus to tell her what to do.

I guess I can live with having a pet dog, but all of these years of Border Collies (and our one red Heeler) have got me somewhat spoiled for dogs that actually do things.