Sheepdoggers

If you have a big brother, literally or figuratively, you probably know what it's like to be sheepdogged.  My brother James (it always made me happy when my mom pronounced it Jammies) was the ultimate sheepdogger.  Growing up I was unfortunately his favorite sheep.  Even though we're both like halfway to dead now, he'd still try to sheepdog me given the chance.  It's devilish irritating to have every real or imagined flaw in your character, speech, personality, behavior, perspective, ethic, or appearance pointed out and corrected by an asineinstein self-appointed godparent.
Is there an inherent urge in a firstborn to herd its younger siblings?  Even within the depths of all the respectful, hardworking, polite, compassionate, intelligent responsibleness of The Precious lies an irrepressible compulsion to sheepdog his brother and sisters.
I was employed under the supervision of a sheepdogger for several years.  I should be awarded the Zen Garden Award for Infinite Patience for that.  He's still alive, and I should be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for that.
Hunneypunkin is the nicest man in the world, but even he tried to sheepdog me for a time.  I went all Jeremy Renner on him and he learned.  I'm not a fighter, but I can defend when necessary because I'm practical and logical like that.  Make note of this, ladies: Hunneypunkin learned.  Don't let anybody fool you.  The Super-Secret Manual of Pointless Instructions for Guys claims men can't be taught, but that is not so.
My annoying proclivity to look for the positive has led to the observation that being sheepdogged can have the effect of sharpening one's character, speech, personality, behavior, perspective, ethic, or appearance.  Of course, being sheepdogged can also have the effect of sharpening one's appreciation for irony.  There's some fun to be had in sheepdogging a sheepdog.