Page 2 of Nut Grabber
Hayes chuckles again and shakes his head. “I doubt that. I'm generally pretty good at these things.” He winks at me, and I feel another flutter in my chest.
"OK… I, um, should let you get back to whatever it was you were doing," I say, taking a step back to hide the heat in my cheeks. "I need to do something about rounding these sheep up, so I can’t stand around yammering all afternoon. I’ll see you around the farm, though. Come on, Miffy."
But Miffy doesn't move. At least not toward me. Instead, she takes one look at me, then another at Hayes, and then she flattens herself against the grass andcrawlsunder the wire fence to lie belly up next to Hayes' boots.
"Miffy!"
Miffy responds by making that same sound the Minecraft villagers do while twisting her body from side to side until Hayes relents and kneels down to scratch her belly.
"So this is the loyalty I get for saving you from the trade and sell?"
Miffy's tongue hangs out of her mouth. She looks pleased as punch.
"Welp. Looks like she's your dog now," I say, covering my mouth to stifle a giggle.
"My boss'd kill me if I tried to bring a dog into the sleeping quarters. But I will take her for the afternoon if you've got work to do. Seems she's not being a lot of help."
"She's being zero help. So that would actually be awesome. I'll come get her once I'm done rounding up these sheep if that's OK."
"It's more than OK," he says, tapping his leg to get Miffy to follow him. "Come on, girl. Let's go find you some more butterflies." Much to my chagrin, Miffy does exactly as he says.
"What the..."
"I'll see you around, Kym."
"Yeah. See you, Hayes," I say, watching them both go off into the distance, Miffy wagging her tail happily beside Hayes. And as I head over to my four-wheeler to start rounding up the sheep, I can't help but feel a little jealous. But I'm not sure who I'm jealous of. Is it Hayes because I've spent weeks trying to train Miffy and all he had to do was walk over and smile? Or is it Miffy, because right now, she's off getting belly rubs from Hayes while I'm out here doing all the sweaty work?
Come to think of it, Miffy might be the smartest one of us all....
HAYES
"You're just a playful puppy, aren't you?" I say, tugging on one end of an old sock while Miffy playfully tugs on the other.
It's late in the day, and most of the shearers have arrived and claimed their space within the bunkhouse. We've met the farm owner, Josh and his wife Regina, divided up the chores and worked out a rotating roster that'll see us working in short runs from sunup to sundown for the next two weeks before moving onto the next farm. It's back-breaking work, but the pay is good, and I get the chance to work all over the world. I don't think I've experienced a winter for almost a full decade now.
It's a good life. But the one thing I really miss out on is the ability to set down some roots and have a pet of my own. Which is why my main focus all afternoon has been on Miffy, the playful pup who's been keeping me company. She's such a joy to be around and I can't help but feel grateful to Kym for letting me spend the afternoon with her.
As Miffy finally lets go of the sock, panting with excitement, I glance up and see Kym walking toward us. She's a sight to behold. Freshly showered and wearing a flowery dress that hugs in at the waist and flares out over her hips, her curly blonde hair slightly damp as it sits at her shoulders. It's a far cry from the dirty jeans, boots and faded baseball cap she had on in the fields earlier, and I sit up and take notice. She's beautiful. I mean, she was beautiful before too. But right now...she's a vision.
"Hey there," she says with a grin as she gets close. "Thought I'd come and check on you two."
"You coming to steal back my dog?" I watch as Miffy runs up to Kym and jumps at her, tail wagging, happy to see her.
Kym laughs and crouches down to scratch behind Miffy's ears. "As wild and unwilling as she is, I'm going to have to insist that she'll always be mine. Even if my brother doesn't think a working farm should have pets."
I chuckle and nod in agreement. "I don't blame you. She's a good pup."
“I keep trying to train her, but I just don’t think she’s got the right temperament to care for the sheep the way her mother did. It could also be my inability to work with animals effectively. My role on the farm is more about admin and stock control.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I say, admiring the way she loves on Miffy like the dog is a part of her family. “I think you’re just fine with animals. It’s just that not all dogs are textbook examples of the breed.”
“She’s a mix. Great pyrenes and Labrador.”
“Ah. Two amazing but full-on breeds. Did you know that there’s only a small percentage of Labradors who make it through the training to be seeing-eye dogs? And not all working breeds are automatically capable of being farm dogs. Why, I was working a farm in the UK where a young border collie ran some sheep off a cliff when it got too excited.”
“That’s terrible.”
“It is. But the point is, some dogs are just your pet.”
