Meet the Lucky Dog Farm crew.

Meggy Moodles on a recent cold morning after moving the sheep, basking in the pink sunrise.

Hello everyone,

Lucky Dog Farm has always been about more than just sheep. It’s also very much about our sheep dogs.

I know there are farmers who manage flocks without dogs, and I have nothing but respect for them—but I honestly can’t imagine doing this work without mine. The dogs are partners in every sense of the word.

Take Meg, for example. Around here she’s also known as Moodles. She was born on this farm about seven years ago and has been my right-hand dog ever since. Every morning, she helps move the flock from the barn out to their round bale in the field. This time of year, the ewes are heavily pregnant, and calm matters. A lot.

Meg works quietly, almost as if she’s floating over the ground. She never rushes them. She stays just behind Blaze—the oldest ewe—letting her set the pace, applying just enough presence to keep everyone moving without stress. It’s a beautiful thing to watch.

That quiet doesn’t mean she lacks authority. When I brought home a new ram a year and a half ago—one who had clearly never been taught that dogs are to be respected—Meg handled the situation swiftly and appropriately. When he lowered his head and charged, she corrected him without hesitation: snapping at his face, nipping his flanks, and moving him along until the message was clear. It was necessary work, done cleanly, and it kept both of us safe.

There is nothing that makes me happier than working my dogs on my sheep. It’s a relationship built on respect—between dog and sheep, dog and farmer. Everyone has a job. Everyone understands their role. That, to me, is good farming.

Life on a small Vermont hill farm is full of these quiet partnerships.

In upcoming posts, I’ll introduce you to Bess and Gyll, Meg’s understudies and the next generation learning this work. Until then, stay warm, cook good food, and settle into winter.

Warmly,
Farmer Judith 🐑