Muster Dogs

Here’s a bold statement: Muster Dogs is easily the best show on television right now. 

I say this even as a recent convert to Bluey, which is gently addictive in its own way, and I admit it’s both subjective and comes from one who watches almost no TV – but I’m quite used to people being wrong when they disagree with me. 

Season two, now half-way through, pits five border collie pups from the same high-pedigree litter in competition to see which can be most advanced as a muster dog after 12 months (training usually takes three years). 

But the contestants don’t know they are competing, which adds simplicity and purity. 

I love the Australian countryside, from the Top End to Tasmania, the shy honesty of the five humans training the dogs, seeing them progress and watching fully trained dogs at work – in short, I love everything. 

I’ve written before about what beautiful creatures dogs are – as opposed to cats, whose beauty is of course only fur-deep – but who could doubt it watching these five amazing puppies, their bond with their humans, their affinity for their task, their intelligence, loyalty and enthusiasm. 

Not to mention cuteness that is right off the scale. Many people have rescue dogs whom they have generously saved from euthanasia; I, in contrast, am a rescue human.

My dog keeps my blood pressure down, elevates my serotonin and dopamine levels, gets me out of the house twice a day, and provides unending affection and mutual entertainment as we learn new tricks or play catch. If she could kick, she could be full-forward for an AFL team. 

Humans are relational creatures, and so are dogs. I have no doubt that Nessie is part of God’s grace in my life, yet another gift of sublime generosity.