Animals

Country diary: trials of a sheepdog in the fog


Outside the old barn where our daughter had danced the night before with her new husband, I watch threads of mist spilling off the cloaked plateau of Kinder Scout. Nearby, one of our younger guests is playing in the yard, a small explosion of energy and white-gold hair that draws the attention of Mac the sheepdog. His sudden appearance prompts squeaks of alarm and Mac’s owner emerges from the workshop to see what the fuss is. With Geoff’s reassuring presence, girl and dog become best friends, and she soon has Mac racing round the yard collecting a tennis ball.

Geoff was born on this estate: his dad was estate manager here years ago, although the grazing is let now. Even so, Geoff still turns out to help at busy times of year and now is one of them: the sheep are being brought off the moor for winter, all the estates together all on the same day. Geoff has already done a dozen miles on Kinder that morning helping round them up.

“The fog slowed us down,” he says. “Can’t see ’em when it’s like that.” Now we stand and watch as whole flocks flow down the hillside like a creamy white wave breaking up the dale. A shepherd sprints across the distant skyline, chasing some unseen excursion by renegades making a break for it. “They know every inch of that moor,” Geoff says, with feeling. “Where there are holes in the wall and so on. Escape routes. All they want is to be up there.”

To entertain my young friend, Geoff sends Mac up and down the nearest field with a series of whistles and shouts. Mac pays close attention, starting and dropping with intelligent precision. He’s not far off four, when he’ll be available for breeding. Geoff’s knowledge of this dog’s forebears reaches back over many generations. He taps his head. “I’ve got this immense family tree in here,” he says. “I keep meaning to write it down.” I’ve often thought of this valley’s human stewards, passing Edale’s secrets from one generation to the next. Now I realise there is a canine equivalent, as wedded to this valley as the sheep: a marriage made in heaven.

North Country Cheviot ewes grazing in Edale, Derbyshire



North Country Cheviot ewes grazing in Edale, Derbyshire. Photograph: John Eveson/Alamy Stock Photo



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