They used to eat shoes

Not one shoe. The pair. Then the mat. Then the bit of skirting board that looked at them funny. Spike and Suzy were kelpie pups with more job in them than house, which is a problem if you live in a house.

They are eight months old now. Still puppies in the head. Working dogs in the legs.

The job is the paddock.

Ten head of cattle, more or less, and two kelpies who have decided the cattle work for them. The cows have names like a news crawl: Canberra, Harare, Beijing, Tokyo, Moscow, London, Denver, Paris, Nairobi, Manila. The dogs do not know they are capitals. They know Canberra stands her ground, Moscow takes up more than her share of the trough, Paris will not be hurried, and Manila stands just the other side of the fence.

The bull is Little Thunder.

He does not herd. He announces. He walks into a quiet paddock and the whole lot of them start moving, whether they meant to or not. When he shoves Tokyo, Harare feels it. When he bellows at London, Canberra puts her head down and pretends she did not hear. Spike thinks this is a problem you solve by running faster. Suzy thinks this is a problem you solve by getting to the gate first.

That is the farm.

Kids who love kelpies get two dogs who still steal socks and still take the job seriously. Everyone else gets the herd.

This is Spike & Suzy.