Meeker – Trace the lineage of the Meeker Classic Sheepdog Championship Trials back to its roots, and you will wind up with a bet. Like the heritage of the dogs themselves, it was most likely an Irishman and a Scot meeting up at what came to be known as “collie gatherings” and placing a friendly “my dog is better than your dog” wager to determine which would perform various tasks best.
Not much has changed from that original format, except the stakes have been raised to $20,000 at the Meeker Classic and competitors now come from as far as New Zealand and South Africa to make the wager.
“Meeker is a phenomenon unto its own, really. Everybody wants to come to Meeker,” said Scott Glen of Alberta, Canada, who was crowned champion along with his border collie, Pleat, at the 19th annual Meeker Classic on Sunday. “This event has been legendary since shortly after its inception. It holds a lot of prestige.”
The prestige surrounding the Meeker Classic emanates from the most unlikely of sources – sheep. Meeker, according to Glen and others affiliated with the event, offers some of the most challenging sheep in the world, testing the predator versus prey fundamentals of the competition to the utmost.
To the uninitiated, yes, sheep herding is a sport. In the sporting format, it’s known as “trialing,” and, no, it’s not a dog show. A dog’s looks have no bearing on the outcome.
The object of a trial course is to test a dog’s ability to manage and maneuver sheep in a calm, controlled manner. The course is set up to evaluate skills that a working dog needs to assist his handler, the shepherd, in daily ranch work. There are six scored components in a trial, all confusingly named in jargon born of the United Kingdom: outrun, lift, fetch, drive, shed and pen. Handlers use whistle and voice commands to guide their dogs in maneuvering the sheep through the course within the 30-minute time limit, a judge deducting points whenever the sheep are off course.
Think of it as a combination of rodeo and chess, in which sheep are the pawns attempting to match wits with canine Bobby Fischers.
“Border collies are bred for their intelligence and ability to manage stock, not their looks,” event spokeswoman Sandra Besseghini said. “And they are incredible. They are so smart and full of energy that they have to have a job, even if it’s just picking up the newspaper. If they don’t have something to do, they’ll go crazy.”
“You can train them to become like a remote-controlled toy, but you really want dogs to use their instincts,” event director Ellen Nieslanik added. “And that’s where you have to really evaluate your dogs to see what they are best for.”
By contrast, the sheep are almost pure instinct. And the Meeker sheep, which have been raised in near isolation atop Vail Pass, are instinctively spooky, like wild trout in a remote mountain stream. Before being introduced to dogs in competition, the last four-legged animal they encountered was likely trying to eat them.
“Many of these handlers have been coming for years to challenge the Meeker sheep. They bring their best dog and give it their best shot, and they can’t believe the sheep beat them,” said Art Unsworth, a rancher from Alberta who has emceed the Meeker Classic since 1998.
With the best of the best on hand in Meeker just a week before the 2005 U.S. Border Collie Handler Association National Finals in Sturgis, S.D., the show Sunday was impressive. Glen’s 6-year-old dog, Pleat, topped Amanda Milliken of Ontario and her collie, Ethel, by only one point, collecting 152 out of a possible 170 points. Tom Wilson and Sly out of Gordonsville, Va., were third.
“He just has tremendous heart, which could be said about every dog out here today,” Glen said of his champion dog. “These dogs are just bred to work, and that’s what makes them exceptional. They’d rather work than breathe.”
Staff writer Scott Willoughbycan be reached at 303-820-1993 or swilloughby@denverpost.com.
