Written by the team behind Puzzlify. Puzzlify is our product, so weigh what follows with that in mind. We've tried to make this useful even if you never use it. We're not affiliated with any sheepdog trial, sheepdog society, trial committee, agricultural society, breed society, farmer, landowner, estate, insurer, local council or community organisation. Nothing here is legal, agricultural, animal welfare, livestock, veterinary, dog training, health and safety, first aid, employment, safeguarding, copyright or data protection advice; check your own trial's guidance on gifts, photos, dogs, sheep, land, children and people's details.
It's twenty past six on a Saturday morning in August, and a retired shepherd called Alun is standing at the bottom of a sloping hill field with a mallet, a bundle of hurdles on the back of a quad bike and a mug of tea going cold on the seat. The dew is still heavy on the grass, the mist is lifting off the river below the field, and the only sound is a curlew somewhere up on the hill. He checks the course plan in his notebook one more time, walks forty paces from the post, and starts knocking in the stakes for the pen.
By seven o'clock, the course is set: the post at the bottom where the handlers will stand, the fetch gates halfway up the field, the drive gates out to the left and right, the shedding ring marked with sawdust and, near the post, the small square pen of hurdles with a gate on a length of rope, waiting for the first five sheep of the day.
Alun has been the course director for the local sheepdog trial for fourteen years, ever since his neighbour Morris, who set the course from the 1970s, said his legs had had enough of the hill. Since the spring, he has helped the trial committee agree the date with the farmer who lends the field and the sheep, sort the insurance, book the judge and find enough volunteers to cover a long day on the hill.
At the top of the field, the let-out team are already in place: two young farmers and a quiet woman called Bethan, who will spend the whole day holding small groups of sheep calmly at the top of the course and releasing them one group at a time, with a patient dog of their own. In the secretary's caravan by the gate, a former school secretary called Glenys is laying out the running order, the scoresheets and a cash tin. In the refreshment tent, the urns are on and someone is cutting a tray of bara brith into squares.
At eight o'clock, the first handler walks to the post with a black-and-white collie at her heel. She sends the dog with a quiet word, and it races out in a wide pear-shaped curve, round the back of the sheep at the top of the field, without a sound. For the next twelve minutes, almost nobody on the bank speaks.
If you've ever stood at the edge of a sheepdog trial, heard a whistle carry across a valley, watched a dog lie flat in the grass on a single command or held your breath while a handler swung the pen gate shut, you've seen the work of a trial committee and its volunteers. This guide is about saying thank you to them, in words first and, if it fits, with a small digital jigsaw made from a photo of the empty pen on the trial field in the morning, the fetch gates on the hill in the mist, the handler's post at the bottom of the course or a row of crooks leaning against a trailer.
Who we mean
Sheepdog trials come in many shapes. Some are small local trials run by a farming community for a century or more; some are part of an agricultural show; some are nursery or novice trials for young dogs and new handlers; and some are larger open, national or international events. Almost all rely on a small team who give up their weekends, their fields and their sheep, year after year. You'll usually find:
- the trial committee, who meet in a village hall, a pub back room or a farm kitchen, set the date, choose the classes and keep the trial going;
- the chair, the trial secretary and the treasurer, who take the entries, draw the running order, deal with the insurance and the paperwork and count every coin at the end of the day;
- the course director and the course builders, who design and set out the course, put up the gates, the pen and the shedding ring, and take it all down again;
- the let-out team, sometimes called the sheep setters, who hold the sheep calmly at the top of the course all day and release each group for the next run;
- the exhaust and sheep handling team, who gather the sheep after each run, sort them, give them water and shade and keep them as calm as possible;
- the judges' helpers, the timekeeper and the scorer, who sit beside the judge, keep the clock, write down the points and post the scores;
- the gate team and the car park stewards, who stand in a muddy gateway, keep the lanes clear and make sure spectators and their dogs stay where they should;
- the commentator, if there is one, who explains to visitors what the outrun, the lift, the fetch, the drive, the shed and the pen are;
- the refreshment tent team, who light the urns at seven and feed the handlers, the judge and the public all day;
- the first aid volunteers, who look after twisted ankles, stings and the occasional real emergency;
- the farmer who lends the field and the sheep, who gives up a field for a day and trusts the trial with their flock;
- the founders, who called the first meeting, found a field and refused to let the trial disappear.
And behind all of them, the partners and families at home who have learned to live with a kennel in the yard, dog hair on every coat and someone who practises whistles in the kitchen.
The words matter most
Before anything else, it's worth saying: the thank-you a sheepdog trial volunteer remembers is the one that tells them exactly what they did and why it mattered. "Thanks for a lovely trial" is kind. "Thank you for letting my nervous young dog run in the nursery class and for telling me afterwards that her outrun was the best thing you'd seen all morning; I drove home grinning" is the one that gets kept.
If you're not sure what to say, these questions might help:
- What did they do that you saw, or that you only found out about later?
- What did it make possible: a first trial for a young handler, a first pen for a young dog, a donation to the local hospice?
- What will you remember about that hill, that morning or that run because of them?
A few honest sentences, handwritten or typed, are worth more than any present. Everything else in this guide is optional.
Who might send one
A photo jigsaw is not right for everyone, and it doesn't replace a card, a thank-you in the society's newsletter or a round of applause at the prize-giving. It tends to suit:
- a committee member, a secretary or a treasurer who is stepping down, or who carried the trial through a difficult year;
- a course director who has set out the gates and the pen at dawn for as long as anyone can remember;
- a let-out volunteer who has spent long days at the top of the hill, out of sight of almost everyone, with only a dog and a flask for company;
- a farmer who has lent the field and the sheep year after year;
- an experienced handler who has quietly helped new handlers and young dogs find their feet;
- a partner or family member who has lived with the trials, and the dogs, for years.
It's less suited to someone who doesn't use screens at all, or who would feel awkward about a gift. In those cases, a card and a warm word over a mug of tea in the refreshment tent are perfect.
Gifts, fields and good manners
Sheepdog trials are a competition, a fundraiser and a working day on a farm all at once, with working dogs, someone else's sheep and someone else's land, and that brings a few things to keep in mind:
- Never distract a working dog. A dog on the course is listening for a single quiet word or whistle from a long way off. Never whistle, call, clap, wave, shout, throw a ball or offer food near the course, the post or the dogs waiting to run, and never approach or stroke a dog without the handler's say-so, even when it's off duty.
- Keep your own dog away. Many trials don't allow spectators' dogs at all, and those that do usually ask for them to be kept on a short lead, well away from the course, the sheep and the competitors' dogs. If in doubt, leave your dog at home.
- Sheep welfare comes first. The sheep belong to the farmer, and a good trial is run so that they stay as calm and unstressed as possible. Never go into the sheep pens, the holding fields or the exhaust area, never chase or handle the sheep for a photo, and don't crowd round the sheep handling team; on hot days, shade and water matter more than anything.
- Handlers' privacy: handlers are often farmers, shepherds and working people who come for the dogs, not the attention. Ask before you photograph a handler or their dog, and never share where someone farms, where their dogs are kennelled or which dogs they own and breed.
- Children and young people: trials are often family days, and some have young handler classes. Never photograph or share images of children without their parents' clear permission, and keep them out of any puzzle.
- The farmer and the land: the trial field and the sheep are lent by a farmer, often for nothing. Respect their privacy, follow the stewards, leave gates as you find them, and never photograph the farmhouse, the yard, the farm buildings or anything that shows where the farmer lives.
- Prize money, entry fees and paid judges: if you're thinking of a thank-you paid for from the trial's funds, check with the committee first, because the money usually goes to prize money, the next trial or a charity. Some judges receive a fee or expenses, and some trials pay for marquees, toilets or first aid. Pay any fees and invoices properly, promptly and separately; a thank-you is a gift, never a substitute for an agreed payment.
- Go easy on alcohol as a gift: not everyone drinks, and most handlers and volunteers are driving home with dogs in the back. A card, a puzzle or a mug of tea is often kinder than a bottle.
- People's details: keep the entry forms, the running order with names, the scoresheets, the cash tin, the volunteer rota and the society's email list out of any photo or message.
None of this should stop you saying thank you. It just means keeping it simple and kind, and putting the dogs, the sheep and the farmer first.
When to send it
There's no single right moment, but these tend to work well:
- in the week after the trial, while the memory of the hill is still fresh;
- when the results and the total are published, and everyone finds out what all that work paid for;
- after a trial that nearly didn't happen, because of a heatwave, a wet week, a change of field or a shortage of sheep, and the volunteers made it work anyway;
- at an anniversary, such as the fiftieth or the hundredth trial, or the first one after a revival;
- when someone joins the committee, retires, steps down or moves away, at whatever time of year that happens.
There's no wrong time to say thank you, but a thank-you that arrives close to the moment it's about tends to land best.
Why a jigsaw can fit
A sheepdog trial is a jigsaw already. Every run is made of pieces: the outrun, the lift, the fetch, the drive, the shed and the pen. Each piece on its own is a small thing. Put them together cleanly, with the sheep calm and the dog listening, and you have one of the quietest and most beautiful things you can watch on a hillside. The committee does the same every year with the field, the sheep, the judge, the volunteers and the weather.
So a jigsaw is a small, quiet version of the same pleasure. Putting together a photo of the pen, the gates or the hill they set out, piece by piece, with real tab-and-blank shapes that click into place, gives the person a few calm minutes with a day that usually goes past in a blur. And because the note appears when the last piece goes in, the thank-you arrives at the end, like the moment the pen gate swings shut and the bank breaks into applause.
If you're thanking the course director and the course builders
The course team are the first on the field and the last to leave, and their work is invisible when it's done well. A photo of the empty pen of hurdles on the trial field in the morning, with the dew still on the grass, the fetch gates halfway up the hill in the mist, or the handler's post at the bottom of the course before anyone arrives, makes a lovely puzzle for them. A note that names something specific means a lot: "Thank you for setting out the course at six, and for every gate exactly where the dogs needed it."
If you're thanking the let-out and sheep handling teams
The let-out team spend the whole day at the top of the hill, out of sight of nearly everyone, holding sheep calmly and releasing each group at exactly the right moment. The exhaust team gather, sort, water and settle the sheep after every run. Without them, there is no trial. A photo of the top of the hill from the handler's post, with the let-out pen just visible as a speck, a gateway with a water trough in the shade, or a quad bike parked by a wall at dawn, with no faces and nothing that shows where the farm is, is a warm puzzle for them: "Thank you for the long day on the hill, and for every group of sheep that came down calm."
If you're thanking the secretary, the scorer and the refreshment team
The trial secretary takes every entry, draws the running order and answers the phone at all hours; the scorer and the timekeeper sit beside the judge all day; and the refreshment team keep everyone going. A photo of the secretary's caravan before the gates open, with no names, scores or money visible, a tea urn steaming in the tent, or a tray of homemade cakes under cling film, is a cheerful image for them. Keep any thank-you for the judge separate from the results, and send it after the trial, so that nobody could mistake it for anything else.
If you're thanking the farmer and the founders
The farmer lends the field and trusts the trial with their sheep; the founders called the first meeting and kept faith through the years when entries were low. A photo of the trial field from a public spot, with no farmhouse, yard or livestock in other fields, the first trial's programme next to this year's, or an old cup with the earliest names engraved on it, can mean a great deal to them, with a note that names what they made possible: "There's still a trial on this hill every August because you said yes."
If you live with a sheepdog trial volunteer
If your partner, parent or friend has filled the house with dog hair, practises whistles in the kitchen and leaves before dawn every summer Saturday, coming home windswept and happy, a puzzle can be a small, private thank-you. A photo of a crook leaning by the back door, a pair of muddy boots on the step, or a sleeping collie in a patch of sun, with a note that says what you've noticed, can mean a lot. Keep your home, your street and anything that shows where you live out of the frame.
When a long-serving volunteer steps down
When someone who has been at the heart of the trial for many years steps back, a bigger puzzle can mark the moment. A 130- or 252-piece puzzle of the whole course from the bottom of the hill, or the valley on trial morning, shared with the committee so everyone can add a line to the card that goes with it, is a warm way to say goodbye.
In memory of a volunteer
Trials are often where a farming community remembers its people, and many cups carry the name of a handler, a judge or a volunteer who gave decades to the hill. If someone has died and their family would welcome it, a photo of the field they set out, the post where they stood or the cup that carries their name can become a gentle puzzle for their family. Always ask the family first, and let them decide whether they'd like it. A quiet note is often enough: "The dogs still run on this hill because of him. Thank you."
For sheepdog trials elsewhere
We've written this mostly with sheepdog trials in the UK and Ireland in mind, from small local trials on a hill farm to national and international events. But the same tradition lives on in many places: stockdog and sheepdog trials in the United States and Canada; field and yard trials in Australia, and heading and huntaway events in New Zealand; and trials in many parts of Europe and beyond, each with its own courses, classes, traditions and rules.
Rules on dogs, livestock, land access, photos and people's details differ from place to place, so check your own trial's guidance.
Photo ideas and consent
The best photos for a sheepdog trial thank-you are often the quiet ones, taken before the first run or after the last, with no people in them at all, and always from where spectators are allowed to stand. Some ideas:
- the empty pen of hurdles on the trial field in the morning, with the dew on the grass;
- the fetch gates halfway up the hill, with the mist lifting;
- the handler's post at the bottom of the course, with the whole hill behind it;
- a row of crooks leaning against a trailer;
- a collie lying calmly in the shade, with the handler's permission and from a respectful distance;
- the whole valley from the bank on trial morning.
Things never to photograph or keep out of the frame:
- faces, unless the person has agreed;
- children and young people, at any time, including young handlers, even from behind;
- dogs while they're working, if you'd need to get close, move, or use a flash to do it;
- handlers' dogs up close without the handler's permission;
- sheep being handled, sorted or treated, and any sheep that looks distressed, injured or unwell;
- the farmhouse, the yard, farm buildings, kennels, private gardens, house numbers and anything that shows where someone lives or farms;
- number plates in the car park and on trucks, trailers and dog boxes;
- the cash tin, the entry money and anything that shows where the money is kept;
- the entry forms, the running order with names, the scoresheets, the volunteer rota and any email list or message group with names and phone numbers;
- anything that might upset someone, such as a photo of a volunteer or a dog who has since died, unless their family has agreed.
If the photo has people or someone's dog in it, ask them first. A photo with no people at all, just the pen, the gates, the post or the hill, is often the easiest and best choice.
Getting the JPG right
Puzzlify works from a JPG. Most phone photos are already JPGs, or can be saved as one. A few practical tips:
- early morning light on a hill is soft and low, and brings out the shape of the field, so it's worth getting there before the first run;
- tap on the pen, the gates or the post to set the exposure, so a bright sky over the hill doesn't turn the field dark;
- don't use the flash, both because it flattens the picture and because it can distract dogs and unsettle sheep;
- grass, dew, mist, stone walls, hurdles, wool and black-and-white coats make wonderful puzzles, because every piece has a little texture;
- large areas of plain sky or even green grass are tricky, so crop them or pick fewer pieces;
- landscape images usually make the most comfortable puzzles on a phone turned sideways;
- if your phone saves photos in another format, such as HEIC, change the camera setting to "most compatible" or export a copy as JPG;
- remove location data from the photo before you upload it, especially if it was taken on a farm or near someone's home. On most phones, you can switch it off in the share options or the camera settings.
Privacy, an optional PIN, and saying it's from you
The puzzle is private: it's shared as a link, not posted on a public board. You can add an optional PIN so that only someone who knows it can open the puzzle, which is useful if you're sending it to the committee's email list. Even so, treat the photo as if it might be forwarded, and keep farms, homes, children and anyone's details out of it. Puzzlify doesn't use your photos to train AI.
Trial committees and their volunteers get plenty of unexpected messages, from entry queries to the occasional scam, and many are rightly wary of unexpected links. Say who it's from and what it is in the message itself: "This is a little jigsaw of the pen on the trial field, with a note at the end. It's from me, and it's safe to open." If you're sending it to someone who doesn't use email much, print the link as a QR code inside a card.
How many pieces?
| Pieces | Feels like | Typical time |
|---|---|---|
| 24 | the empty pen of hurdles | a few minutes |
| 48 | a row of crooks against a trailer | around 5–10 minutes |
| 80 | the fetch gates in the mist | around 10–20 minutes |
| 130 | the handler's post and the hill | around 20–40 minutes |
| 252 | the whole valley on trial morning | an hour or more |
If you're not sure, 48 or 80 pieces suits most people on a phone. Plain sky and even grass get tricky at high piece counts, so start lower if the image has large areas of one colour.
The leaderboard: only for a group
If you're sending one puzzle to the whole committee, the optional leaderboard lets everyone see who finished first. Some groups enjoy the rivalry, a little like the friendly argument over the best run of the day; others would rather solve it quietly. For a puzzle sent to one person, or after a bereavement, leave it off.
A few note ideas
- "To Alun: fourteen years, every gate and every hurdle, and the pen always in the right place. Thank you."
- "To Bethan and the let-out team: thank you for the long day on the hill and every calm group of sheep."
- "To Glenys: thank you for the running order, the phone calls and the cheque that went to the hospice."
- "To the tea tent: thank you for the bara brith. Nobody whistles well on an empty stomach."
- "To my wife: thank you for the dog hair, the early Saturdays and for teaching me how to stand still and watch."
(Change the names, and keep anything personal, any address and any farm out of a puzzle that may be shared.)
How to make one (about a minute of setup)
Upload the photo, pick a piece count, write your note and preview it. When you're happy, publish the link and send it by email or message, print the link or a QR code inside a card, or ask the trial secretary to pass it on. Start at Puzzlify's photo puzzle maker.
Honest pricing and notes
Making and previewing a puzzle is free in your browser. You only pay when you publish the link to send it: one credit is EUR 3.99, three credits are EUR 8.99, and Plus is EUR 14.99 a year for ten credits, which can make sense if you want to thank the course director, the let-out team and the secretary separately. The person you send it to doesn't need an account or an app; they just open the link in a browser.
This is a digital jigsaw you play on a screen. It isn't a cardboard puzzle in the post, a printed product or a public puzzle board, and it isn't connected to any trial, society, club, farm or charity. It's also not puzzlify.io (a chess site), Puzzlit, Puzzly or Puzzify, which are different things.
Ideas that are not a puzzle
Honestly, some of the best thank-yous for sheepdog trial volunteers cost nothing at all:
- a handwritten card, handed over at the prize-giving or posted in the week after the trial;
- a thank-you in the society's newsletter or the local paper, naming the let-out team, the course builders, the tea tent and the farmer as well as the committee;
- offering your skills: a shift on the gate, a day helping with the sheep if you have the experience, a few hours on setup or in the tea tent;
- leaving your own dog at home, standing quietly on the bank and clapping every pen;
- writing to thank the farmer who lent the field and the sheep, and closing every gate behind you;
- a tin of good biscuits for the next committee meeting, which never fails.
If a photo puzzle feels right as well, choose the empty pen on the trial field in the morning, the fetch gates in the mist, the handler's post or a row of crooks, take it from where spectators are allowed to stand, keep faces, children, dogs up close, sheep being handled, farms, homes, plates and anyone's details out of the frame, pick a piece count that suits them, and write the note in your own words. You can make a free preview here and decide later whether to send it.
Whatever you send, the most important part is the sentence that sounds like you, written to the person who set out the gates at six, held the sheep calmly at the top of the hill, drew the running order, kept the clock beside the judge, lit the urns and lent the field, so that next August, when the first dog races out round the hill without a sound, the pen gate will still be waiting at the bottom of the field.
Written by the small team behind Puzzlify (info@puzzlify.app). Not legal, agricultural, animal welfare, livestock, veterinary, dog training, health and safety, first aid, employment, safeguarding, copyright or data protection advice. Check your own trial's guidance on gifts, photos, dogs, sheep, land, children and people's details.