Thursday, 13 April 2017

Sheep Balls and "Nuggets"

We sold our first eggs. So, I'm fairly sure that that means we're real farmers now. I have a soft spot in my heart for our two little grey chickens, one is a silkie, and one seems to be a cross between a silkie and something else. I call them my chicken littles, they're so small and all the other big mean hens pick on them. Only one of them lays. It doesn't happen frequently but when it does I know, because they're so small, the teeniest cute little baby eggs. I always feel a little burst of pride when I see her tiny egg. I want to give her a congratulatory snuggle, but she runs away.
I tend to call everything I think is cute "nugget" I catch myself calling these two "my little baby nuggets" sometimes, but it feels a whole lot less endearing when its said to chickens, I've probably got them living in a constant state of fear by calling them "nuggets", hopefully they don't understand.
My Chicken Littles
 Right: Ms. Muffett
Left: Ms. Tuffett
My Sheep are getting to be a touch more tolerant of me. Walske is what we decided to name our ram, still gives me a whack with his big horns when I don't immediately offer him food, but he eats out of my hand now, so I'm confident that it's progress. Scout is our youngest ewes name, she will have absolutely zero of my pets, she tries to hit me with her horns, but they're only a few inches long, so it's absolutely more adorable than threatening. Poor thing. Calpernia is our older ewe, and Scouts mama. She will allow me a few glorious seconds of petting typically only when I have her distracted with treats and snacks. I'm working on halter training them, which I thought would be a relatively easy task, I WAS SO WRONG. I am so thankful that we don't have neighbours that could potentially watch as I run around like an absolute psycho trying to catch a sheep. Thus far I have not successfully caught one, and they will not be distracted with treats once they see that harness. I was talking to the guy I bought them from he says he was only ever able to catch them by roping them. Which is pretty effing badass. I'm going to have to learn to rope a sheep, and guys, I promise if I learn to rope I WILL NEVER PUT THAT ROPE DOWN. Can you imagine, I would be so cool if I could rope like a cowboy. I'd be in love with myself. So I guess when I say "I'm working on halter training" what I should say is, "I've been working on my cardio and learning to play chase with sheep".
Scout and her adorable little moustache

Walske, our big grumpy boy 
Calpernia (Big mama) is very camera shy














We named Walske after a dear friend of ours who was the biggest help during our move. He was constantly waking up early packing things, loading things, even driving to FSJ with us to help unload the many trailer loads full of our belongings. We promised to name one of our yaks after him, but the two yaks we have coming are girls and he wanted a boy to be named after him, so that's how Walske got his new name. I think he likes it.

Heres another interesting fact about Walske (the ram, not the person); his balls are HUGE. They nearly drag on the ground, its like a giant basketball hanging off of him, I did not expect that. I was so surprised by it in fact that at first I thought it was a big patch of snow or wool or something stuck to him, and I kept trying to get close enough to pull it off. Walske was not thrilled. Again, I'm so thankful to not have neighbours. Can you imagine what they would have been thinking if they had been able to see me out there doing all i could to grab ahold of his balls?! My life is a series of embarrassing events.

  

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