People think running a vineyard is all grapes and glamour. Let me tell you, it’s not. Behind every great bottle of wine is a tightly run ship. And behind that ship? Me. Noodle. Head of Security at Long Dog Wines.

I may be small (compact, if you will), but I run this place with military precision. Nothing happens on this farm without me knowing. No boot on gravel, no courier on the drive, no crate unloaded without a sniff and a stare from yours truly. My job? To make sure everything, and I mean everything, is in the right place, at the right time.

Noodle patroling the farm.

Stock deliveries? Checked. Double checked. Signed off (in spirit, of course, I’m more of a pawprint guy than paperwork). I know the courier schedules like I know the scent of an open snack bag. If you’re early, I’ll be watching. If you’re late, I’ll be waiting. If your paperwork doesn’t match your load, I will bark, once, sharply, just to keep you honest.

I believe in just-in-time stock control. No over-ordering, no unnecessary clutter. We run lean here, tools, treatments, labels, glass, corks, all arriving exactly when they’re needed. No sooner, no later. Why? Because order is beautiful. Chaos leads to confusion. And confusion leads to missing wine labels, and that’s just unacceptable.

Noodle and Sam counting each end every grape.

I also patrol the perimeter. Day and night. Guinea fowl, squirrels, and those sneaky porcupines that come up the river, all kept firmly in check. You think those vine rows stay undisturbed on their own? No, sir. That’s me, making sure the vines sleep soundly and the cellar hums without interruption.

I’ve got a nose for mischief and a bark that means business. The team knows it. Dino may be the winemaker, and Sam may be the heart of the vineyard, but I’m the one who keeps the wheels turning and the gates shut.

Long Dog Wines runs smoothly because I run a tight schedule, a tighter inventory, and an even tighter perimeter.

So, the next time you sip a glass of the Long Dog Blend, raise a toast to security, logistics, and the little dog making big things happen in the background.

Stay alert. Stay efficient. Stay feisty.

– Noodle
Head of Security, Stock Controller, and Courier Coordinator at Long Dog Wines

Around here, if something needs fixing, fetching, fuelling or figuring out, chances are, I’m already on it. My name’s Enzo. I’m the Farm Manager at Long Dog Wines, and yes, I’m a dog. A working dog. A doing dog. A let’s-get-things-done-with-a-wag kind of dog.

People often ask, “What does a farm manager actually do?” The short answer? Everything.

From the moment the sun peeks over the vines, I’m making rounds. My first stop: the bakkie. The old girl’s been with us a while, and I keep her purring, tyres checked, oil topped up, back seat cleared of suspicious sandwich wrappers (you know who you are). A farm doesn’t run without wheels, and ours run best when I’ve had a paw in the servicing.

Enzo doing his morning rounds.

Next up, the tools. Every crew member, every task, every row in the vineyard, they all depend on having the right kit, at the right time. Need pruning shears? Trellis wire? That one odd wrench that only fits the tank valve? I’ve already laid it out before you even thought to ask. Organisation is my middle name (well, not really, but it could be).

And while I take my job seriously, I don’t take myself too seriously. There’s always time for a tail wag, a sunny stretch, or a quick roll in a particularly inviting patch of soil. I believe a good day’s work should end with a happy sigh and a little dust on your coat.

Enzo running to sort out another issue. Dino following to lend a hand.

My secret? Simple: keep the farm humming, keep the people smiling, and stay two steps ahead of whatever could go wrong. That’s what I do, quietly, consistently, and always with good energy. Sam tends the vines. Dino makes the wine. Noodle runs a tight perimeter. But me? I’m the glue that holds the whole operation together, with grease on my paws and a grin on my face.

At Long Dog Wines, it takes more than grapes to make great wine. It takes well-oiled tools, a reliable bakkie, and a whole lot of tail-wagging commitment.

And I’m here to make sure we’ve got all three.

– Enzo
Farm Manager, Equipment Whisperer, and Bakkie Boss at Long Dog Wines

Darling, let me introduce myself properly. I’m Ziggy, front of house, head of charm, artistic director of vibes, and the undisputed queen of first impressions here at Long Dog Wines.

I greet every guest with flair, every courier with a sniff of approval (or disapproval, depends on the shoes), and every bottle with a knowing glance. Some dogs chase balls. I chase brand consistency.

Ziggy, Lassy and Dino enjoying the fire on a cold winters day

You’ll find me where the people are, sashaying through the tasting room, twirling around the soiree stand, or perched ever-so-stylishly near the register, encouraging impulse buys with a perfectly timed tail flick. I don’t sell wine. I seduce people into discovering their new favourite bottle.

Long Dog Wines isn’t just a vineyard. It’s an experience. And I ensure that experience sparkles, from the label fonts (approved with a paw swipe and a nod), to the way each bottle is placed just-so on the shelves. I am the artistic wind that blows through the farm. Sam may grow the grapes, Dino may make the wine, but I make it sing in the world.

Sales? Through the roof. Socials? Always on brand. Pop-up stalls? Don’t get me started. I once sold out a stand just by tilting my head and blinking. Twice.

Ziggy charming the guests.

I’m also the keeper of the ambience, scented candles? Yes. Jazz on low volume? Absolutely. A beautifully curated corner for selfies with our signature blend? Please. This tail doesn’t just wag, it curates.

And when the day winds down and the last guests have gone, you’ll find me stretched out across the best rug in the house, glass of Long Dog Blend in paw, dreaming up our next campaign (working title: Long Dog. Long Finish.).

So next time you visit us at the soiree, ask for me by name. I’ll be the one greeting you like an old friend, guiding you to your perfect bottle, and making you wonder how you ever drank wine without me.

Stay fabulous. Stay full-bodied.

– Ziggy
Front of House Diva, Sales Whisperer, and Brand Muse of Long Dog Wines

Every vineyard has its legends, and if you ask around Long Dog Wines, they’ll likely point to me.

I’m Lassy. Retired (officially). Respected (rightly). And still occasionally called upon for my palate, which, if I may say so, is as sharp as ever. In my prime, I was Long Dog’s head wine taster. Nose to glass, tail to the breeze. I could pick up the faintest whisper of blackberry from three barrels away, and I was known to raise a brow at any blend that lacked balance.

Image of Lassy resting by the hearth.

These days, you’ll find me closer to the hearth than the harvest. I’ve earned that. There’s a warm spot by the fireplace with my name on it, and it’s where I like to spend my afternoons, snug, content, and within earshot of every conversation happening in the tasting room.

Visitors often drift over for a chat. Maybe it’s my silvery fur or the way I raise my head at just the right moment during their pour. I listen, nod, and if they’re lucky, I’ll share a few stories, about the early vintages, the time we had loadshedding during bottling, or the unforgettable 2019 Tannat that still gives me goosebumps. People say wine gets better with age, I think stories do, too.

Lassy chatting to John and Anne, regular visitors to the farm.

And yes, I still help with the tasting. Not officially, of course. But I do make my rounds when Dino’s pouring something new. A swirl, a sniff, a gentle lean toward the glass, sometimes a little too close. What can I say? Old habits.

I love seeing how far Long Dog Wines has come, Sam’s thoughtful farming, Dino’s bold blends, Enzo’s well-oiled operation, and Noodle keeping everyone in line. It’s a good team. A pack, really. And though I may be a little slower now, I’m still very much part of it.

So, if you find yourself visiting the farm, come sit by the fire. I’ll be there, tail curled, ready to share a tale or two and raise a paw to whatever you’re drinking. Especially if it’s red.

To time well spent and wine well aged.

– Lassy

Retired Wine Taster, Fireside Storyteller, and Resident Grande Dame of Long Dog Wines

As the days grow shorter and the chill creeps in under my paws, I can feel the vineyard slowing down, just like me. Autumn is almost over, and winter is on its way. My coat is getting thicker now, a soft, warm shield that grows in with every cooler morning. The smells are changing too. Earthier, quieter, like the land is taking a deep breath before a long nap.

Image of Sam and Nibby checking out the vines. As always, Sam has her trusty rock.

Here at Long Dog Farm, everything is done by hand – and paw. It means the work takes longer, but it feels more personal. I walk every row with care, my nose low, tail high, checking in on each vine like an old friend. I’ve come to know their moods, their needs, their quiet shifts as the season turns.

This year, I made sure they got one last long drink, deep watering before the winter rains take over. It’s a bit of a gamble, trusting the skies to do their part, but I’ve seen how much it helps. The vines settle in more gently, their roots stretching down into the damp soil, ready for rest. I know the feeling. As the wind picks up and the air bites a little more each day, I find myself curling up sooner, sleeping longer, and dreaming of spring.

To support them through winter, I’ve also added LAN, a light nitrogen feed to help the soil replenish what was taken during the growing season. It’ll break down slowly over the colder months, ready to nourish the vines when they start waking up again in spring.

We’ve started laying hay along the vine banks, something I’ve come to appreciate more and more over the years. It keeps the soil warm, holds in moisture, and slowly enriches the earth as it decomposes. But just as importantly, it creates a safe home for beneficial insects. A thriving insect population means fewer problems down the line, and it’s always been my belief that a vineyard’s health starts below the surface.

This is also the perfect time to do a deep clean. We’re pulling out weeds by hand, giving the soil a chance to breathe, and spreading mulch where it’s needed most. With the canopy thinning out, I’m able to walk the rows and check the trellis lines and wires. It’s the kind of maintenance that saves a lot of frustration come spring.

Banks covered in hay and the korog looking great.

Before the pruning begins in earnest, I’ve made sure every tool is cleaned, sharpened, and oiled. When your work is as hands-on as ours, having tools in top shape isn’t just practical, it’s respectful to the vines.

Earlier this season, we also planted our winter cover crop, korog  – between the rows. It’s already starting to come up, and I love seeing that soft green carpet stretch across the vineyard. Not only will it help prevent erosion during heavy rains, but it’ll also add organic matter to the soil and improve structure. At Long Dog Farm, we try to let nature do as much of the work as possible, and the korog is already doing its part.

Winter is quieter, but never still. While the vines rest above ground, the real work of renewal happens beneath the surface. I take this time to reflect, to note what worked this year and what didn’t. Each season teaches me something new, and these cooler months offer space to listen and plan.

There’s a special kind of quiet that settles over the vineyard in winter. The buzz of summer is long gone, replaced by stillness and soft ground under my paws. It’s not just about getting ready for the next harvest. It’s about respecting the land, the rhythm of things, and the steady work that carries us all through the seasons.

From my favourite sunny patch by the barn here at Long Dog Farm to wherever you are, I hope your winter prep is going smoothly. May your vines rest well, and may your paws stay warm.

– Sam

Tannat has always spoken to me, not with a wag or a bark, but with boldness. It’s a grape that doesn’t try to please everyone, and neither do I. Strong, dark, and a little misunderstood? Sounds like someone I know.

Image of Dino Lamberti many dog years ago, back when Long Dog Wines was just getting its paws dirty in 2017.

At Long Dog Wines, we’ve always gravitated toward grapes with character, and Tannat has that in spades. It’s not just bold, it’s brooding. Originally from the southwest of France, Tannat has found fame in Uruguay, where it’s been embraced and transformed. But here, on our quiet patch of earth, it’s carving out a story all its own and I get to tell it. I may be a dog, low to the ground, stocky, black and tan, but I’ve spent enough seasons among barrels and vines to know when something special is happening. And with our Tannat, something very special is indeed happening.

 The first thing you’ll notice is the colour: dark, inky, almost opaque. It pours like velvet at twilight. Then the nose (trust me, I know noses), it hits with black fruit, spice, cracked pepper, and the smell of tobacco leaf after rain. Let it breathe, and you’ll uncover hints of leather, cacao, and that unmistakable earthy signature of our soil. Then you take a sip.

 Tannat doesn’t whisper. It walks in and owns the room. The tannins? Bold and structured, not harsh, but confident. Like a dog who’s found his spot and dares you to move him. But give it time, and you’ll discover a surprising softness. The fruit opens up, the edges round out, like me after a belly rub. There’s grace behind the grit.

 Here at Long Dog, our Tannat spends two years aging in French oak. The barrels don’t tame its wildness, they refine it. It’s still rugged, still proud, but now it’s polished. And while Tannat can certainly stand on its own four paws, I knew from the start it needed a partner.

Tannat brings the brawn, Cab Franc brings the charm. Together, they’re like two paws of the same stride. Powerful, balanced, and beautifully in sync. The result? The Long Dog Blend. A 50/50 partnership that sings. It took years to get it just right, but when you taste it, you’ll understand why we kept at it. Tannat lays the foundation; Cab Franc dances on top. It’s a wine with backbone, brightness, and a long finish. Like a vineyard walk that stays with you.

 If you’ve never tried the Long Dog Blend, consider this your invitation. Pour a glass, take your time, and let it unfold, layer by layer. And if you sense something bold, loyal, and just a little bit wild…well, now you know the winemaker.

And if you already know it? Then you know, it’s not a wine you forget.