I still have dreams about Gramp's farm in Albia. I can close my eyes and remember almost every aspect of the place. The part of the trip that I loved most during the visits were the animals: Trigger, who shlepped to the back forty to hide as we rounded the bend. The ever-changing litter of kittens Gramp usually had in the barn often hiding in a nest in the rafters....and Shep. Or, Sheps - as I recall once one Shep passed, another would take his place and become the new Shep. His one variation was Molly, and I think she pre-dated my time.
Gramp being what I believe was a typical farmer didn't tend to his animals a vigilently as we do ours. The cats were for eradicating vermin on the farm, period. Shep had his job to do and coddling him was not part of the deal. He didn't come indoors, ever. Ruthie would cluck her tongue over the treatment of the animals - Gramp's rationale for not feeding them leftovers hit a brick wall with her. He was goodnatured about it, but firm. She fed them anyway. We'd cook up Sunday dinner which generally consisted of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, etc., and always, ALWAYS a cream pie of some sort. Banana, vanilla, chocolate or coconut. These were Gramp's favorites.
As soon as dinner was over, the men would depart to the living room and Gramp would talk of old memories or the goings on in the area -- and Ruthy, Jeanne and I would start the process of gathering all the dinner scraps for the dog and the cats of the farm. She'd make up a huge plate for Shep, covered in leftover gravy (I'm sure Gramp always wondered why there were no leftovers for him to feast on the next day). We'd take that bowl out back out of the sight line of Gramp's easy chair, and Shep would be waiting, tail wagging wildly. I remember one time we got there later on when I was a bit older and Gramp had a new Shep - not the old black and white border collie - and the dog was so hungry Ruthie gave him a half frozen piece of beef she brought specifically for him. No time to thaw it out completely. Next we'd head to the barn for the cats. Once, when we didn't have much in terms of leftovers, she combined a plate of soft bread pieces and raw egg for the cats. They had a feast, but the next time we were down to the farm Gramp grumped about how the cats were breaking into the hen nests and eating the eggs. Oops.
But the Sheps were always a staple. Well trained for sheep heeling, but also sweet dogs. We never brought Tippy with us on these day trips, I gather because he was unlikely to take well to the other dog being with his people. As it was, Tippy would ignore us as we left for Gramps - looking away as we backed out and yelled goodbye to him on the lawn - and then run to the Murphy's across the street and hide when we returned. I always tried to lure him home and on occasion would see him peeking around the Murphy's house to see if we were looking for him. He knew we'd spent the day with that other dog at that other place, and wanted to teach us a lesson
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