Boomerang 0, Emily 1

None of our dogs are working dogs.

More's the pity.

No, they're the laze around and be pampered kind of dogs and Boomerang is no exception.

For the most part, I keep them separated from the farm animals. It's just easier that way. Or it was before we built the new fences this summer.

Ironically, one of the unintentional consequences of all the new livestock fencing was the destruction of the dogs' invisible fence.

Two steps forward, one step back.

At first I didn't worry about it too much, because the new fencing created a very nice dog yard in its place, between the house and the original pasture.

Then Boom figured out how to crawl under the fence into the pasture and he's been doing so at every opportunity since. No matter what countermeasure I throw up.

Usually, it's just a nuisance, cause as good as he is at getting into the pasture, he's hopeless when it comes to getting back out. I have to go get him.

P.I.T.A.

Every so often though, he gets into the field where the sheep are. This pleases him greatly. The sheep not so much.

He chases them around until he's penned as many as he can into a corner. Then he stands back and barks at them until I come and release them.

Good boy, Boom. Way to catch the sneaky sheep. 

Not.

Today, he got his comeuppance.

Once again, the Icelandics are a breed apart.

Go Emily.

Guard sheep extraordinaire.