Have you been paying attention?

A year of blogs has passed by, and it's time to see whether or not my readers have been paying attention.  Just for yourself (ie, I don't need answers on a postcard), can you tell which is the odd-one-out?

Now that's a funny way to sit...

Daily words fail me as to how strange sheep are...

Tame lamb madness

Today the tame lambs moved into a new 'des res' – bigger space, loads of exciting things to do like run around, play in the straw, stand on the block of wood to be the tallest ever lamb there was. After a few tentative moments of "Where the heck are we?", lamb madness breaks out…

Eventually everyone settles down - nice warm bedding, milk on-tap (well, on-nipple to be more precise) and cosy mates to have a sleep-over (now 25 of them).

Meanwhile, those lucky enough to have mothers (the tame lambs being orphaned, rejected or the third of a triple) are out in the fields.  On a rainy day they are kitted up with natty Mary Quantesque plastic macs (which we later have to retrieve from hedges, trees and ditches), but on a pleasant Devon spring morning, it's straight out to start learning the ways of sheep-hood - which are few and far between as far as I can see.

Some of the older doubles have now been moved back up the hill towards the moor to take up their summer residence.  What with birthing, feeding, letting out, feeding again, cleaning pens, keeping the cattle happy etc, we'll be glad when lambing is finally over - only 20 ewes to go!  Then maybe we'll have a rare moment of tranquility...

Tales from the sheds

Lambing is in full swing – checking the sheds every 4 hours, penning new mothers and their offspring (or helping during the birth in some cases), disinfecting navels (with iodine or copper sulphate), giving a dose of antibiotic, and later in the day, ringing tails and (for the poor boys) balls.  Older and more sturdy lambs take the express transport into the fields (and thank goodness there has been some rain and it's a bit warmer – the grass has finally started to grow), while the weedy and just plain odd stay behind for a little more tender loving care.

What happens when a lamb kicks iodine over you…

  

A first taste of freedom.

Our stock of tame lambs has grown (orphaned, the third of a triple or from a completely useless mother who may find she doesn't get another chance unless she bucks up her ideas), so we are immensely glad we have an automatic shepherdess to feed them (a fancy way of saying a bucket with nipples on it).

Daisy and Irene have been a godsend – hard working and lots of fun – and an excellent way to get the sheep used to people talking around them.  Two particularly sorry ewes are confined to the orchard as they are not standing still so their lambs can feed – one is even tethered to a tyre to slow her down.  However, daily they have to be held still so that the lambs can get a drink.

 

Irene and Daisy really are small enough to ride sheep!

The first of our Exmoor mules produced lambs that obviously had the Charolais ram as a father.  Partially wool-less, thin faced, wrinkly and spindly – affectionately known as the rat-babies.  I mentioned how challenged they were in the looks department to Ann, who said that all lambs were lovely.  When I took her to the pen, her revised opinion was "Wow, that is ugly!"  Rat-babies they may be, but they are my favourites – and perhaps one day they will grow into their skins, stand up straight and pronk off proudly.

 

The first rat-babies.

Another couple of weeks of this, and then perhaps everyone can have a rest.

 

Comfy place to sleep.

The Unexpected Guest

And we're off and running – the first lambs arrived at the other farm a few days ago, a week ahead of schedule.  The ewe has taken to one of her twins, but is not so keen on the other, so after a good dose of complaining (from the lamb), Ian M gave it a good feeding.

We were not expecting any action over here for at least another week, with the bulk of our births from the 6^th of April.  So imagine our surprise when we heard a pathetic bleat from behind the small trailer, and after a bit of casting about in the equipment, found a sturdy little girl who had wandered off from her mother.  Given that Tuesday is our set-up day, nothing was ready … and the mother is a useless blob of wool if ever I saw one…so the upshot is that we have a lamb in a box in my office so we can keep an eye on her and feed her every 4 hours.  This is not a habit I wish to encourage.

The dogs are curious, and Cody sits vigil by the office door.  I don't trust him.  We'll relax tomorrow when all livestock are back where they belong.

A lesson in barber skills

Last week I had my first experience of hands-on shearing.  For me, not the whole sheep – that would take far too long.  No, last week was all about preparing for lambing, and as lambs come out the back end of a ewe, that was what we were shearing.  Two days of trimming bottoms.  I would hazard that this probably is not going to go down in my experience book as a favourite activity, but I will say that I had nice soft hands afterwards (despite the bits and pieces matted into the hair…less said the better) – all that lanolin. 

The variation in wool is quite amazing.  From tight curls, to luxuriously puffy fluff, via dreadlocks, to the Scotch mules and their extremely long and hair-like shaggy pantaloons.  Some were a quick trim – a short back(end) and (in)sides(of the legs).  Others you just have to dive in with the clippers because you know that somewhere deep inside is a sheep, and eventually you'll find a part you can recognise and can work from there.   Pantaloons become short-shorts, and long daggy tails turn out to be tiny little stumpettes that waggle as you work (occasionally dropping small gifts onto your hands as you shear away).

Before and after...

The whole process has also confirmed to me that sheep have no ability to translate another's experience onto themselves.  They watch curiously as their sisters are shorn, but don't see this as something coming their way.  And once done, I'm not sure that they even realise what has happened (except perhaps that their butts are a bit cooler).  However, they do have a massive range of facial expressions that show what they are thinking…