Bluey and Bandit were found abandoned on a coworker’s family farm in southern Missouri with their mom and two other siblings on July 30th. Mom was a red heeler mix; absolutely no idea what Dad was.

And yes, I know. Bluey and Bandit. Very original names.

In our defense, we have a 3-year-old who is obsessed with Bluey, and these were supposed to be temporary foster names because these were supposed to be temporary foster puppies.

Two of the siblings already had homes, so we offered to foster the last two. We contacted a local rescue that we’d adopted our Plott Hound mix, Goose, from about a year ago, and got Bluey and Bandit set up through them to find permanent homes.

Bluey was posted for adoption and got adopted Sunday, August 19th, only two days after she went up.

Because of course she did.

Look at her. She was gorgeous.

And I, a grown-ass, 36-year-old man, cried when I had to say goodbye to her.

The worst part was that the family who adopted her was exactly what I wanted for her. Late 30s, mature, active, clearly had the means to give her a great life, and they’d previously raised a female heeler from a puppy who lived to 15. They knew exactly what they were signing up for.

I couldn’t have picked a better home for her.

But when we walked out and I could hear Bluey whining because “her people” were leaving her, it absolutely broke my heart. She made that same little noise whenever we left a room. She didn’t necessarily need you to entertain her. She just wanted to be wherever her people were.

My girlfriend and 16-year-old daughter had already been campaigning relentlessly for us to keep Bandit. I maintain that they eventually wore me down.
That is technically a lie.

I decided Bandit wasn’t going anywhere the second I said goodbye to Bluey.

And if I’m being completely truthful, I think I did it for Goose more than anyone.

Goose is our Plott Hound mix, and watching him with these puppies has been incredible. He’s so ridiculously sweet and gentle with them, and he was so happy to have play buddies who actually wanted to wrestle and chase him all day.

Our other dog, Bruno, is a 9-year-old Rott/Lab mix and the sweetest grumpy old man alive. We love him dearly. He’ll play for about three minutes, then he’s ready to lie down and would appreciate it if everyone else would also lie down.

It took Bruno forever to finally decide that Goose was acceptable.

Now we’ve brought home another one.
There is currently no evidence whatsoever that Bruno intends to forgive us.

Then, the day after Bluey was adopted, the shelter called.

Bluey had tested positive for parvo.

We believe they were exposed at a spay/neuter event through the shelter. Thankfully Bluey pulled through and is doing great, but suddenly we were watching Bandit like a hawk and disinfecting basically everything in our house.

Two hours of overnight diarrhea, three vet visits, and an almost $1,500 “do we take him to the emergency vet right now?” decision later…

Bandit has continued testing negative and is doing great.

So now it’s official.

Bandit is ours.

He bites the 3-year-old constantly because she absolutely refuses to believe us when we explain that putting her hands and face directly into the wrestling puppy is perhaps not the best strategy.
He has a puppy-sized bladder and apparently believes the entire house is an acceptable bathroom.
Bruno looks at us every day with an expression that can only be interpreted as, “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Another one?”

And Bandit is only just beginning to reveal what I’m sure will eventually be the full Australian Cattle Dog experience.

I know what’s coming.

I know this adorable little puppy is going to turn into an adolescent cattle dog mix with opinions, unlimited energy, teeth, and absolutely no respect for my personal plans.

I know there will probably be a point sometime in the next couple years when Future Me looks back at these pictures and thinks:

“You idiot. You knew what he was.”

But right now?

We’re just ridiculously happy he’s here.

We miss Bluey like crazy, but she got the home she deserved. Bandit got his.

And somehow our house now has Goose, Bruno, and Bandit.

All of our boys.

Every step you take

stinky goober terrorizes my life daily

I love how her hair puffs out when wet. She loves to go to this river spot, jump in the river and then up on to the sand to do zoomies and back.

Hi everyone! So I have a 4mo red heeler named Maple. She is a vicious land shark, as expected, and very, VERY mouthy lol. We’re having a bit of trouble with some training but nothing we’re not progressing on (albeit very, VERY slowly).
My current issue is that she is way too anxious. Around everything. She’s my first cattle dog, so I was expecting a lot but not this part. She doesn’t do well seeing other dogs, people, anything on wheels, boxes, trash cans, random sounds, anything that she deems to be too tall etc. I could go on forever.

If we’re out on a walk, and it’s empty, she’s fine. Dog in the distance, she’ll stare a bit but is fine. But if we turn around and there’s someone walking in either direction that wasn’t there before, the hair on the back of her neck stands and she almost screams. Like imagine a beagle, and they’re AUUUGH, yeah she does that. If we’re heading out to walk and there’s someone walking past the door that she didn’t expect, it’s AUUUGH. Oh, I put the couch cushion on-top of another couch cushion to wash the base cushion that she happy-peed on? AUUUGH. Man walking past us with a stack of boxes? AUUUGH, plus some foaming spit. Hears a trash bag settle in the trash can? AUUUGH. Left a box for a fake grass pad she never used on the couch yesterday. AUUUGH. Sound of kids passing by in their scooters? AUUUGH. A dish slipped in the sink and made very minor noise from settling? AUUUGH. You get the point.

Is this normal??? Do I need to get her checked for anxiety, or something similar? We take her everywhere so she’s always seeing people, cars, hearing birds, squirrels, etc etc, so I thought she’d be used to random little things but I guess not.

Here’s some pics of my AUUUGHer. Her quirk is always having her tongue out lol

September 1^st, 2012. A day that would change my life forever.

I always wanted a dog. We had a black lab that was a “family dog” growing up, she was awesome, but that was really my parents dog. She passed while I was away in college. My parents bought my sister a dog as a high school graduation gift. It was hers. I was a bit jealous, I didnt get a dog when I graduated high school. But I was in college, what was I going to do with a dog.

Fast forward a few years to the end of 2011. I had been out on my own for a few years, almost got myself a dog a couple of times, but I was in an apartment. Breed restrictions, weight restrictions, and exorbitant fees made me think otherwise. I was 24, had saved up some money, and decided to buy my own house. April of 2012 that became a reality. Within a week I had a deposit on a pure bred Husky. 7 hours away, they had a waiting list, it was first come first serve. If they called you, you had to come get the dog within 72 hours or lose your place. If they called you, you got what you got, there was no choosing; you want a male? Too bad we got a female for you. You like the fur pattern on that one? Too bad this is the one you get. Either that or you go back to the bottom of the list.

My mother talked me off the ledge of that one. Along with my friend Kate, who did a lot of fostering. She nearly talked me into fostering. I was so close to finalizing the paperwork on becoming a foster. Then I realized that I would very likely fall in love with the first dog I foster, so why not just adopt.

I spent months on every shelter within a two hours drive looking for a Husky. But every time one popped up it was gone just a quickly. Frustrated, I waffled back and forth on fostering until I found a Husky to call my own. Having spent much time on shelters web sites I had also noticed a large number of older dogs who just dont get adopted. The night of August 31^st, 2012, I spent the night searching shelters once again for Huskys to no avail. I noticed a dog whos picture I had seen repeatedly for all those months I had been searching. Sadly, I dont recall his name. He was a Black Lab / ACD mix. I remember him because he had the saddest eyes. He was 9 when his family left him at a shelter because they couldn't take him with them. I decided I was going to give him a new lease on life.

The next morning I was up before the sun. I couldn't sleep, I was too excited. Today was the day. Finally. My own dog. I made coffee, ate breakfast, paced, and finally, at 7 am, I couldn't take it anymore, I left and drove to the shelter, not even thinking about the fact that they didn't open until 9am.

I pulled into the parking lot, vacant, except for the constant sound of barks and meows. Sat in my truck counting the seconds, waiting for someone to show up. Waiting to meet my new best friend.

Finally, the doors opened.

I told them who I was here to see. They told me they had a large play area, invited me to wait in the room while they brought him so that we could get acquainted. Impatiently, I sat on a picnic bench they had in the room. Finally, he showed up. They walked him in and let him off the leash, the shelter person stayed in the room, just in case. I sat there at first, tried calling him, he looked at me, kind of nervously wandered around the room, side eyeing me. Eventually I went to the middle of the room and just sat on the floor hoping he would be more comfortable, but any time I got close he would dart away as far as possible. The sadness evident on his face, and his actions told me that all he wanted was his family back.

I spent a good 15 minutes in that room, trying to do anything to even get within 5 ft of him. Squeaky toys, treats, everything. If I got too close he let me know with a grumble, not aggressively, just “Im not interested”. I let the attendant put him back in his crate.

Disappointment. Sorrow. Confusion.

I wanted to give him a better home so badly. But he seemed so disinterested. What to do? I had come prepared with backup plans (more so in case he had been adopted already. The thought had never occurred of 'what if we cant get along'). One of the backups, a 5 year old lab, had been adopted the day prior. The other backup, Shelby, was a 7 year old German Sheppard.

Back then the rescue allowed you to walk around the cages freely. I asked if they could point me in the direction of Shelby, they obliged. I walked to her cage, before I was within 2 ft she was aggressively barking and biting at the bars of the cage. All set there. But now what. That's a no go on my backups, and my primary, while not aggressive, but extremely distant. What if I take him home and he wants nothing to do with me? Ever. What if he becomes aggressive after making yet another living arrangement move? What if? What if? What if? I wondered the hallways while pondering. All while seeing if maybe I missed someone on the website.

I passed her cage 2 or 3 times before I noticed.

In a sea of barking, jumping dogs, every time I walked by, she got up, casually, walked to the front of her cage, waged her tail, and simply watched me. No barking, no running, no jumping. Just.... Hello.

Her name was Gladys. An 18 month old Australian Cattle Dog, whose mother was abandoned at a different shelter when she got pregnant. Her and her litter were born in that shelter. And her, and those of her litter who hadn't been adopted were slated to be put down. But the ASPCA stepped in and saved them, and brought them to the no-kill shelter I, and she, were at. She had been with them near 5 months. Never owned, no one ever tried adopting her. 18 months old and all she ever knew was a cage.

I asked one of the employees if I could see her out of the cage. They asked if I wanted to go back to the room again. I said “No, I just want to see how she reacts without the bars there. As they opened the cage and put her on a leach I put my back against a nearby wall and knelt down. Pulling on the leash as she made her way to me, she approached me from the left, used her head to push my elbow out of the way, crawled onto my left leg, and buried her head into my chest.

I, a grown ass man of 24, broke down in tears, as I barely muttered out “You're coming home with me”.

I filled out the paperwork, paid my dues, and anxiously waited for them to bring her to me. My dog.

I got her in the truck, and she rode the 30 minutes home sitting in the middle of the bench seat with her head on my lap. She knew she going to her forever home.

We pulled in the driveway, I opened my truck door, got out, turned around to get her out, and before I had even turned halfway around I felt her fur brush past me as she jumped out and took off sprinting like a greyhound after a rabbit. It was a warm, 97 degree day, I was wearing sandals. As I ran after her my fear was, of course, 'oh my god, I just rescued this poor sweet dog who knows nothing of the world and shes going to run through a street and get hit by a car and they're never going to let me get another dog again'. As the sandals broke free of my my feet a second thought occurred; 'oww, oww, oww'.

I chased her trough yards, up streets, down other streets, through other yards, constantly yelling “Gladys”, and finally, cornered her in a neighbors enclosed entryway. Picked her up, held her tight, and took her home where she could rest on the cool tile floor, air conditioner, drink the fresh water, and run free in my totally fully fenced in back yard. The blisters were so worth it.

It was about this point I realized I didnt like the name Gladys, and neither did she, as she just didnt respond to it at all. Once we got things settled, I sat on the floor, she was laying on the chaise lounge of my couch, head in between her paws, face to face and told her we needed to find a new name for her. We sat there and tried a few names out. I didnt like them much, and neither did she. Then it hit me. My favorite motorcycle, the Triumph Bonneville. Bonnie. As the sound left my lips her head perked up. I said it again. She tilted her head. Again, “Bonnie”. She jumped off the couch. “Is that you? Are you Bonnie?” She was.

Bonnie spent 13 years, 11 months, and 7 days by my side. Perpetually.

Together we lived in 5 different states, traveled through 34 different states, hiked 12,000 ft mountains, visited the lowest point in North America, saw the ocean (in sever different places), and several lakes, but never swam in them (because she didnt like the water, be it a bath, the pool, pond, lake, or ocean). We met lots and lots of people together (and I still have people who met her just once during our travels talking fondly of her), and all sorts of animals, from cows to goats, deer and ducks, and even a few Bison.

She loved to go for hikes, walks, or runs. She always enjoyed a nice yard to get the zoomies out, and tug of war was our favorite game to play, although I had the advantage, since everywhere we lived had hardwood or tile floors, and I weighed more... I would still let her win though, most of the time.

She equally loved quiet nights on the couch, and could regularly be found resting against one of my legs.

Bonnie left this rock on August 7^th 2026. She went peacefully and of her own accord after a lengthy battle with kidney disease. She was 15 years, 9 months old.

Never has anyone had such a profound impact on my life like she did. She taught me so much through the years. My best friend. I miss you so much BG.

To those of you fortunate enough to be chosen by an ACD, I know you understand the impact these dogs have on your life. To those who havent, its hard to explain. ACDs are a total pain in the ass, but they also have seemingly extra sensory perception. Colloquially called “Heelers” because they were bred to heard cattle by nipping at their heels, but if you ask me, they should be “Healers” because they always know exactly what you need to feel better, be play time, hug time, or alone time (with a friend near by for moral support when the time is right). Loyal to a fault. And while no one will ever replace my Bonnie, I know I will have other dogs in my life, but I dont think I could ever have anything other than an ACD.

If you read my Bonnie girls story, thank you. Hug your dogs. Love them. Enjoy every second, because its never long enough.

I don't remember what is lying next to her destroyed but I'm sure she had fun with it.

adopted this babygirl from a shelter yesterday and they had her labeled as a red-heeler cattle dog, but i feel like she looks mixed? i’m not sure! what do yall think?

We yeeted our entire lives across the state over the weekend. Winifred clocked every second of it. Every car ride. Every tape-screech. Every “where did I put the cooking utensils” spiral. She has been present. She has opinions. She is holding up suspiciously well.

This morning she woke up and decided to be a model citizen. Sat. Stayed. Listened. Obeyed. Acted quite proper. It was super creepy!

Meanwhile the Aussies are having a full nervous-system event. They watched the house get dismantled like it was a true-crime documentary about them. Stress levels: max. Side-eye: Olympic. We feel terrible. We also would like it noted that we will not be doing this again for two whole years, so they can put that on their little dog calendars.

We own approximately one metric ton of Actual Toys. Wini’s favorite is an empty Gatorade bottle. She also looted a random bottle cap from the yard and treated it like contraband treasure. The yard itself is a jungle. Overgrown. Feral. Wini has declared war on the dandelions and she is not done. There will be fluff. There will be victory laps. There will be no survivors among the weeds.

Send help. Or more empty bottles. Or both!

More Mako!

He was strapped in. Do not fret 😆

Hi everyone, I'm seeking advice about our now 5 month old cattle dog puppy. Please, no comments "cattle dogs aren't for you"... This is our 4th ACD (but is our only dog).

We got our puppy at about 10 weeks old- it was a 'backyard' pup (not a 'breeder') and a bit unplanned. We chose him from 3 left in the litter since he was the most engaged with us and seemed to be the most happy with us as strangers and he had been around kids (we have older children, who puppy loves thank goodness).

Within the first couple of days, I started to see signs of fear that I sorta considered 'red flag' behaviors to watch. Since he was new to us and still very young and fear happens around this stage, we worked diligently with positive training methods. Most of his fear was people fear. I know the breed can be suspicious of strangers, but this seemed bigger than that so I worked very hard, very early to curb it.

Despite very consistent positive behavior training methods, his aversion to people got worse and worse. We even did work with a doggie behavior specialist (keep him under threshold, reward him when he looks at something 'scary' and looks back at me, reward him for remaining calm. Create positive associations with people by having people throw down treats every time we have guests, but not let them touch him... people=treats so eventually people=good.

None of this is working. Not only is it not working but the stranger/people aversion is getting worse. He used to only bark if he heard neighbors, now he barks aggressively just going outside at all. Sometimes, we have to give him treats to lure him outside or he won't go.

Also, he does not want to engage in any traditional dog games. He doesn't care about fetch, balls, frisbies, or tug. Our other ACD who didn't like dog games, that was fine because we could take him to the trails, to our family's land (where there are other people and friendly dogs), camping, jogging, biking, etc. But with this one, all of those are now off limits because if he sees a human even a mile away, he freaks out. His behavior inside our family unit is sweet but with any other humans, even people he has met repeatedly many times, has gotten totally out of hand.

We socialized him from the start. We introduced him to people, took him places, gave him treats every time someone walked by the front porch, we took him to the square, we take him to park&rec softball games (at a distance) to see people from afar. We have done all of the socialization you'd usually do... but I am losing hope because not only is he not getting better, it almost seems like all the positive behavior training is training him that he SHOULD respond poorly to people? I know this sounds crazy, but I'm really getting concerned that I've inadvertently conditioned him to dislike people by giving him treats every time he's shown fear of people.

In his life with us, he has never suffered any trauma, no traumatic scary events, no dog fights, witnessed no aggression or violence of dogs or humans. We have a lovely family environment, diligently engage and train, have a huge fenced yard, take him out and about but also crate train, etc. Maybe he had trauma as a tiny puppy? But then why was he so happy to come home with us and engaged with us?

Help, I am really disheartened. I've never ever given up on a dog but this is starting to feel like an actual liability. I do not trust him not to bite someone (he air snaps- hasn't ever bit anyone but I am concerned he is on track to do so). We got him young which we were so excited about! I thought this level of fear was only present after trauma, which to my knowledge he has not had (the dog behaviorist agreed it was fear and not guarding).

Years ago we had an adopted ACD with terrible dog reactivity and really only ever liked a few other dogs, but that was manageable because dogs can be avoided, people cannot. She was also suspicious of strangers but if I said the people were okay, she trusted me and I never worried she'd bite anybody. Our other two ACDs also had their challenges and quirks but after a couple of years, they both graduated to "best dog in the world" status and lived very happy full lives with us until they passed away... a year later here we are with our newest puppy.

I am wondering if anyone else has seen a dog like this- who seemingly hasn't had any trauma to cause this level of fear and if you fixed it... if you did fix it, how? what did you do?? Thank you and sorry this got so long.

They said poodle mix at the rescue event but every person I have met in public automatically says blue heeler. 😆 What have I gotten myself into? He nips my feet and when he gets tired he tries to bite my hair off. I love him to death already (only after a week and a half) but I need help! I bought him a herding egg and he likes soccer balls. He also is driving my 14 year old min schnauzer crazy with the nipping and barking at him but at least he gets him moving.

Whiskey’s first beach visit!

This is Patty, 2 years old currently and still an absolute psychopath. ENDLESS energy and endless levels of affection. Master class level snuggle pup.

Please ignore the messy closet. Everyone is safe, it was just a squirrel.

11.5 years on earth, 8 years with us. Wouldn’t trade it for a thing