A Cumbrian farmer is mourning the loss of her beloved border collie Moss, who died during the night at the age of 14, just as the busiest weeks of the lambing season reached their peak.
Andrea Meanwell, an upland beef and sheep farmer near Tebay whose land sits at roughly 1,400 feet above sea level, discovered her companion had passed away quietly as she began her morning rounds. Moss had been with her since 2012, when Meanwell drove through snowy weather to collect her from a farm in Lancashire. “It was a flying visit to pick her up before we got stuck in the snow,” she recalled.
The bond between a hill farmer and working sheepdogs runs deep, and Meanwell’s attachment to Moss was no exception. Border collies are among the most intelligent and loyal of breeds, known for their agility, energy and an inherent desire to please. Moss was no different: she delighted in agricultural shows, winning numerous rosettes for “best shepherd dog” at local shepherds’ meets, and her favourite days were those spent beside Meanwell during dry-stone walling, lying in the sun and “pootling about”.
Meanwell still has four other dogs, including Moss’s daughter, Foxy, but understands that every loss wounds regardless of age. “Sometimes when other family members aren’t here, my only conversation and company is with my dogs,” she said. The average lifespan of a border collie is 12 to 15 years, though some have been known to live longer; the oldest recorded in the UK, a collie named Bramble, reached 28.
Lambing was still in full swing when Moss died, a period that demands relentless attention. Meanwell’s flock of Rough Fell and Welsh Hill Speckled Face ewes lamb outside, often taking themselves away from the group at dusk or dawn. Each evening she begins her last rounds at 8.30pm, knowing that by 9.30pm it will be too dark to see the sheep without the quad bike’s headlights. “I know that two sheep have gone up towards the railway line,” she said, describing how she drives along to check them as darkness falls.
From that vantage point she can see both north and south, with the lights of the M6 motorway trucks reminding her of its constant presence. The sound has become so familiar that she no longer processes it. A train speeds past with lights on inside, prompting her to reflect on the thousands of people who travel through the valley daily without stopping. The M6, a major north-south spine, runs close to her farm; planned bridge repairs near Junction 38 at Tebay have raised concerns about prolonged disruption and the creation of “rat runs” through rural villages.
Meanwell, who works full-time as a Farming Officer for the Lake District National Park authority and has written four books about farm life, runs the land in partnership with her son, Hector. He manages the day-to-day operations, aiming for a sustainable, low-input strategy that balances environmental benefits with food production. Their farm lies between the M6 and the River Lune, a waterway that has shaped the landscape for centuries. The river’s erosion now threatens a Roman fort and settlement on the farmstead, whose buildings bear evidence of phases dating back to the 16th century, including an 18th-century coaching inn.
After finding Moss, Meanwell fetched a spade from the shed and carried her down to the dogs’ graveyard by the River Lune. She has buried six dogs there in the last nine years. As she dug, she placed her phone nearby to play an episode of The Archers – the long-running BBC Radio 4 drama that has broadcast rural life since 1951. “My dogs are well used to listening to The Archers with me, and it is somehow comforting that this is playing as I bury her,” she said.
Moss died with her ears pricked up, looking alert, as if waiting for the next day on the farm.
