My husband, the Sheepherder
When my husband Richard was a little boy on the Navajo Reservation, his mother Amy, would take him out sheepherding. He'd sit around playing with sticks and stones that he called his toys. As he grew older he took the responsibility to watch over the sheep. His mother would send him out with pieces of dried meat and tortillas or fried bread and sometimes dried corn and plenty of water. Sheepherders take the flocks to water or where there's grazing and good grasses to eat. When he took me down to Cactus Valley he would show me some areas where he would watch his sheep and showed me various types of grass that appealed to them. He talked about his favorite dog Skippy who protected him and helped him. There were times when mountain lions and wolves would prey upon a lonesome sheep or lamb but Richard was armed with sling shots and rocks he'd hurl at them and yell and sometimes scream for them to leave. He said it was hard work taking the sheep out and not get back for sometime...