Alpaca Farmgirl

Our first two alpacas were scheduled to be delivered soon. I wasn’t sure how we would keep them safe from predators. Our fences were new and strong, but I knew I needed to find some livestock guard dogs.

Enter Beverly Coate. This wonderful old country woman had been raising and breeding Great Pyrenees for dozens of years. Since I was 8 months pregnant at the time, I told Beverly I didn’t really want a puppy. Instead I was looking for some dogs that were already trained and ready to work.

“Well”, she said, “I’ve got two rescue dogs…” Red flags went up in my head. Rescue equalled untrustworthy to me. Not what I wanted guarding my precious, expensive investments. But I listened to her story.

Rusty and Joy were two dogs she had rescued. They had been found wandering on somebody’s front porch out in the middle of nowhere. They tried to find their owners, but had no luck. Beverly kept them, and after a while she gave them a chance to guard her sheep and goats. “They came to me already knowing how to work. They are really good guard dogs.”

Beverly told me that I could return Joy and Rusty to her if they didn’t work out. I trusted her judgment and agreed to take Joy and Rusty to guard our herd.

It was the week of Christmas. Super cold temperatures were causing air traffic delays all across the country. The morning Joy and Rusty were supposed to be flying in from Oklahoma, I mentioned to my husband, “Beverly says that Rusty has a habit of putting his paws up on your shoulder. She says that he knows not to, so if you just tell him to get down - he will.”

“Can’t we get one without that option?” Steve asked, thinking about his very pregnant wife getting knocked down by this huge 100+lb. dog.

“No, we’re getting Rusty,” I said with conviction.

The dogs’ plane had been delayed by several hours due to the frigid temperatures at the Dallas airport. When they finally arrived at the airport it was close to midnight. It was pitch black outside. We had to meet them at a remote part of the airport since they were “cargo”.

By this time, the poor dogs had been in their crates so long that they had gone to the bathroom in them and were dying to get out. They rushed out of the crates and were wildly excited to see us. They fell in love with us immediately as we freed them from those cages! We clipped on their leads and went outside to let them relieve themselves.

Steve walked one dog, and I walked the other. In all the commotion of getting them out of their crates and with it being so dark, we couldn’t tell which of these big white dogs was which. As we walked along, the air was crisp and cold. The stark white of the dogs’ coats contrasted sharply with the black of the night. The stars were shining brightly overhead, and there was a sense of peacefulness. The kind that can only be felt on a winter night where nature is still, as you walk with a friend without speaking.

The silence was broken when I said, “I wonder which one is Joy and which one is Rusty?”

At that moment, the dog I was walking turned towards me. Very gently, he lightly put one paw up on my left shoulder, then the other paw came to rest on my other shoulder. The weight upon me was no more than that of a butterfly resting upon me. I looked into his eyes. Mine were filled with tears as I said, “Oh, Rusty, it’s YOU!”

Since that night, I have known that Rusty was meant to be my dog. I don’t know where he came from, though I have fantasized about it countless times. But I know he is a treasured soul and over the years our bond has only gotten stronger. Rusty is an amazing guard dog with a ferocious bark and a steadfast heart. He is protective of me and my alpacas. He would lay down his life for any of us, of that I am sure.

Thank you, God, for helping Rusty and me to find each other.

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