The morning began with not-the-typical farm chore. Leroy No-Longer-Brown’s horn was once again in danger of growing into his head. In the past, he has found a way to break it off himself. As evidence, we would find an area on the block wall of rubbed off fleece and smeared blood but it had not happened this time. To spare our boy one big-arse headache, we pulled out the cable saw and lariat and ventured out into the farmyard together.
Although typically affectionate, like dogs going to the vet, the sheep seem to know when something different is up. Perhaps it is the deliberateness of our step, the mission in our eyes, or the giant PVC pipe in Hunky Husband’s hands, but the minute they see us, they run, and today was no different.
It’s times like these that the “Pretending” in the Pretending to Farm becomes obvious. We tried trapping Leroy in the corner, behind the tree, and in various areas of the yard. After fruitless minutes, we laughed at one another and our obvious amateurishness. Yeah, we’re shepherds, uh huh, right. Finally, we got him and he was not happy about it. David sat him on his bottom like Papa and Son Ernie the Shearers have so expertly done in the past but Leroy still fought. When he was finally situated, I placed the cable saw around a section of the horn that I hoped was without blood vessels and got to work.
“Longer strokes!” Hunky Husband shouted. I adapted my form as he coached me; I had never done this before. Smoke rose from the horn. The knuckle of my thumb grazed the cable but I had no time to whine (a first!) about the resulting burn; Leroy would only put up with this for so long. David kept me apprised of the situation; “You’re halfway through, ¾, almost there, done.”
My arms burned but the task was complete and successful. Newly freed, Leroy ran off with the rest of the flock and would not even take the grain offered to him in treat and apology. Seeing this, the goats had no problem filling in for him; goats have no shame.
All is now fine with the flock but we are once again humbled by our lack of shepherding skills and experience. I think it’s time to re-read my sheep husbandry books and get out there with halters whether they like it or not. Nancy is way ahead of me in this department; take a look. We’re not worthy.
By the way, super kudos for Nancy for keeping her farm and flock after a tough time in her life. Way to go, Nancy; you deserve every success! Hopefully, someday we’ll make it to Minnesota to see your lovely place and snag a sheep or ten.
Darby says, "Stay away from my horns if you know what's good for you."
Talk about a pin-up! In that bottom photo, Darby looks like a sultry, sexy leading man, a dark, young Leonardo DiCaprio. Of course, your girls are used to him; familiarity can breed contempt. Maybe Braveheart's rear view WOULD turn their heads more....
Posted by: Michelle | July 26, 2007 at 10:27 AM
Oh, Darby --- my love -- my life. I've missed seeing him. What with moving, etc., I haven't been able to read your blog for several weeks. Imagine getting to see such a lovely picture of Darby on my first return visit. He is truly gorgeous!!!
Posted by: Karalyn | July 26, 2007 at 06:54 PM
Thank you Lauren! You're more than welcome to come visit anytime! Bring your spinning wheel and you can stay as long as you'd like...
;-)
Posted by: Nancy K. | July 27, 2007 at 06:05 AM
Thank you Lauren! You're more than welcome to come visit anytime! Bring your spinning wheel and you can stay as long as you'd like...
;-)
Posted by: Nancy K. | July 27, 2007 at 06:06 AM
Read the kind things you said to Franklin and I had to come and check out your blog. I am pretending to ranch myself ... having sold off my flock (but one) and moved to Japan on a military assignment. I raise coloured sheep also (border Leicsters)... and chickens, pigs, llamas, cattle, horses, and angora rabbits. I can't wait to get home and start back over. What sort of sheep do you have? ooo ... sorry ... to personal and too many questions ... I know ...
meg
Posted by: Meg | July 28, 2007 at 04:23 PM