Inspired by Eugène Boudin (1824 – 1898) – Lambs and sheep dog (around 1854 – 1860) – Pastel on grey paper – 9,45 x 12,60 inch

Jaska loves her job. She gets it from her mother, who had it from hers. A family heritage that makes Alfonse ivery proud. In the late winter she is impatient as ever. She has been waiting for this moment for a very long time. The green pastures, the mountain, the small house sheltering her and her master. All so many rituals that happen during warmer weather. The herd promises to be large this year. The boss bought a few ewes that will soon give birth. New born that will need to be brought up the first days to follow the elders through the fields. So much danger awaits all these pretty white wools at nightfall. But Jaska is not worried, she is used to being in charge, it’s already her fifth season.Alfonse got up at dawn. Transhumance is for today, Jaska knows it. She follows him like his shadow, the tail sweeping everything in her path. It’s almost 7 o’clock, time to leave before the heat. The eldest is released first, a bell around her neck and her experience of the field make Blanquette the perfect leader.

The first day ends without a hitch. Just the dean who slightly limps. But nothing to really be worried about. Alfonse took some balm he intends to apply to her before going to sleep. Jaska is spying on every mouvement even the slightest in case he needed help : bringing the pads for the sheep, later on his blanket to keep him from the wind blowing under the stars and his pack of cigarettes, always with him but never opened, a remembrance of his grandfather.

The following day it’s raining cats and dogs. The hoofs skid over the rocks. It’s dangerous. They have to go on the other side of the mountain towards the sunnier hillside. They move forward gently. Alfonse put a rope around Blanquette’s neck to slow her down and prevent her from hurting her paw again. Jaska leads from the back of the herd to gather the newcomers and the laggards. She is soaked but carries on, whatever it takes. It’s quite an art.

As they get close to the summit, Blanquette escapes. Terrified by the thunderstorm rumbling, she loses control and runs all over the place. The shepherd screams her name between two rolls of thunder but in vain. It’s too late, the bell stopped ringing.