Cute dog and great name! I had an ACD through the early 20-teens, The Bucket. He was the kind of dog people still tell stories about. I miss him dearly.
ACDs are characters, but yeah, I never trusted him with poultry. The prey drive was, whew! I'd only ever had herding dogs until recently. The Bucket ranked up there with our family Border Collie for being the hardest-headed. Our Shelties were cake in comparison, though one was
loco.
I've herded with the Border Collie, some Shelties, and The Bucket. The Border Collie was the star there. The Bucket preferred stuff like agility. If he were around today, I would've gotten him into Dock Dog and/or Flyball. He lived to fetch and swim.
Besides all the exercise and socialization, I guess I'd say the following:
- If he's driving you nuts, teach him a new trick, or give him a problem to solve, like a smart toy or the "find it" thing you're doing. The Bucket knew all kinds of tricks. I could say "clean up," and he'd grab all his toys and throw them back in the basket.
- Be consistent. Give him an inch, and he'll take miles. However, they're smart enough to understand different house rules, so don't worry if others feel the need to spoil him. For example, I didn't want him on furniture, and if I ever let him on the couch, he'd start jumping up all the time without being asked. Meanwhile, he'd sleep on the bed with my mom when kept him, but when he came home, he'd go right back to my rules. It's only if I faltered that he'd take advantage.
- Remember that most people don't realize how intense breeds like ACDs can really be. Obviously some are calmer than others and The Bucket was friendly and well trained, but it was amazing how much chaos he could cause if I wasn't careful. I turned my back once at a dog bakery, and he tried to herd a huge mastiff by nipping his ankles and face like a bull. It didn't go over well. Another time, someone was throwing a ball for him by a bonfire, and we ended up having to chase him down with a hose. He didn't care that his leg was on fire as long as he caught that ball mid air. And once, I accidentally kicked a soccer ball out the door of our rooftop apartment, and he flung himself off the landing after it. Fortunately he hit tree branches on the way down that broke his fall. We had just moved to the mountains, and I made a note to never hike him off leash. He had no sense of heights. Or fear.
Wish I had better photos of him. Here are a couple from when he was 8 or 9.
