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The Shepherd's Bath by Bruce Fogt

Working Border Collie: September/October 1998

It can be hot out on the prairie in the middle of July.
The sun beats down on man and dog ‘till they're about to die.

After working sheep all morning in the hot and gritty dust,
The longing for cool water becomes almost like a lust.

He dreams of sandy beaches, with cool waves caressing skin,
And tropical lagoons with waterfalls, just right for diving in.

But water can be scarce, with no pools nor ponds nearby,
Since beggars can't be choosers, the sheep trough gets a try.

It's nothing very fancy, just a barrel cut in two,
But since it's the only water, he figures it'll do.

Now the prairie is a lonely place, with seldom folks around,
And modesty's for the tenderfoot, or places where people abound.

So with heat outweighing prudence, the shepherd gets undressed.
He lets the cool water surround him, as he feels truly blessed.

It can be a solitary place, in the South Dakota hills,
And to see another face is one of the greatest thrills.

Guests are always welcome, though they don't often come to call,
The distance between neighbors is often quite a haul.

So to have a friend drop by and hear another's voice,
Can be a mighty special treat and a time to rejoice.

But once there was a guest, who arrived without a sound,
And wandered along the trail, to see if the shepherd could be found.

Through the pasture and over the hill, she walked at a steady pace,
She rounded the bend and abruptly stopped, surprise upon her face.

It came as quite a shock, to both parties on that path,
With the shepherd in the trough, enjoying a cool bath.