“Schlepherdess”

Does this dog intimidate you?

"Schlepherdess" is definitely an unusual appellation.  I chose it mostly its because all the good names were already taken.  Honest.  So I was forced to make one up.

I was looking for something that would express an idea I have of my relationship to the part of Nature I occupy, as well as Nature as a whole.  It also has something to do with passions of the past, and who I am now.

Back in college, I was introduced to the exciting then-new field of ecology.  Of course, I had to do a paper on Rachel Carson’s “Silent Spring”.  I am happy to say that it was not a new book then.  It *was* available in paperback.  In that class, I fell in love with our Earth.  I have been so ever since.

I’ve since tried to live ecologically-minded.  For a few years, I gave up driving my VW in favor of a 12-speed bike.  I read Euell Gibbons and Tom Brown.  I toted a backpack with a guide to edible wild plants, a sheet of plastic, a knife and a book of matches, all must-haves if one gets lost in the wilderness. (The closest I ever came to entering that condition was when I took a detour off the Appalachian Trail to attend to urgent matters.  Desperately wanting to avoid detection, I wandered farther and farther.  Afterwards, I couldn’t find my way back. Twenty minutes of walking downhill - one survival tactic - landed me back on the trail.  So much for those fantasies.)  When other women I knew were reading Cosmopolitan, Jacqueline Susanne and Erica Jong, I was reading about how to build passive solar, straw bale, and envelope houses (along with Jacqueline Susanne and Erica Jong.)  For decades I have dreamt of being off the grid electrically. 

When we were able to, my husband and I bought a pocket of woods for our children to grow in.  We raised a lot of our food.  We had milk goats, which, until I met my first Border Collie, were my favorite animals ever.  In fact, I only met my first Border Collie because I wanted some animal help with my goats.  It turns out that goats don't respect dogs.  If appearances mean anything, goats are mystified by dogs.  They will watch dogs retrieve balls, sticks and frisbees like refs at Wimbledon.  It's as if they're asking themselves, "What on earth is that animal wasting it's time for if the humans keep throwing something away?  How long will this inanity last?"  Otherwise dogs did not interest (or intimidate) them.  If a dog had the temerity to try to block a goat's path, they got a solid head-butt.

Every year in these woods, I have become more respectful and observant of the Earth.  As I was once a goatherd, I want to ‘shepherd’ the earth, which provides us with sustenance.  Throw in the fact that I’m pretty much like everyone else, a person trying to do good but not always succeeding, and you have it: Schlepherdess.