Bart was chosen for me as a small puppy, by his grandmother, Hazel.  When Grace whelped the litter, Hazel developed milk and took over their feeding and management
to a large degree.  When the pups were about six weeks old, Hazel constantly thrust Bart at me, telling me to take him. I told Hazel “no way, he’s a boy.”  She maintained she
knew that but keep him anyway.  I did and I have not been sorry.

Every step of Bart’s training has been a source of joy to him. From the time he was six or seven months, he has always asked to do more and to be the one undertaking the job.  He is powerful and authoritative with difficult sheep, never wavering on the extra step.  He is precise and flexible.  His outrunning is outstanding and I have been attending to the pliability in his outruns which for instance his aunt Eucher lacks.  He just  turned two. This winter, I am slowly bringing him round to shedding, which contradicts his ideas of the way things ought to be.  As pleasurable as he is to run, he is easy to live with, agreeable and thoughtful.