We opened the gate oats in hand and the pandemonium began. The cows took off with the sheep close behind. We opted to chase the cows and worry about the sheep later. The thing about driving cattle is that they run faster than we do. Also, they are three and we are two. Two people isn't really enough to move one cow on the loose, let alone three. Despite this we tried. We chased and crept and ran and yelled and did our best to herd them away from the woods and back towards the pasture. After what felt like an entire lifetime we got them into the pasture. Low and behold our beloved sheep followed. For a hot second we were feeling pretty proud of ourselves. Until Calpernia and her lambs casually stepped through the fence and back into freedom.
Neither of us have ever considered ourselves anything for mutton busting. Good thing, turns out we're trash at it. What we learned however is that in order to catch a loose sheep you must fully commit. A half hearted or wary leap towards them will not be successful. At last I fully committed. I leapt onto Calpernia managing to grab her with one hand tightly gripped to her wool and the other held fast to her back leg. I held fast as she drug me around the chicken coop until Dylan was able to get her around the neck. Finally I was able to get her haltered, which I thought would make pulling her to the sheep pasture easy. I was able to halter and lead the sheep quite easily from the lambing pens to the pasture just a couple short months ago. Turns out it was relatively easy only because they wanted to go that way. It is more difficult to pull a sheep that is determined to go in the other direction. While I was pulling her Dylanwas attempting to herd the lambs behind us. Until the moment Calps leapt up from the ground and managed to ram me with her horns. One in the collarbone and one in the throat. She managed to kick me in the stomach at the same time. From this I have learned that my sheep are possibly not ruminants as I once suspected and are more likely trained assassins. Despite my shock I managed to hang onto the lead though I very quickly rethought my decision to lead her through the pasture and tie her in the shelter. I decided that right where we were was as good a spot as any to let her off. Fortunately her lambs quickly came running to her side. 6/7 escapees were now captured. Scout was a touch more difficult. With Calpernia I at least had the benefit of her not hating me entirely allowing me to get relatively close to her, something I did not have with Scout. I am not a superhero so I could not leap the distance I would have needed to in order to catch her no matter how committed I was. Though there were a number of failed attempts by both myself and Dylan. I'm nearly certain my knees will never recover. I also discovered that Dylan is a touch less reckless than I when it comes to the possibility of catching a horn or a hoof to the face. We had long passed the point of leading her with oats. The frustration and stress of spending hours chasing animals around was getting quite intense. They say most couples divorce over money stress. I'm not so certain. It's possible that escaped critters are the leading cause.
Eventually we were able to work together, myself at the gate and him slowly guiding her towards the other sheep we were able to get our final prison breaker back where she belonged.
We were tired at this point and ready for bed. But it was just past noon. Precisely wine o'clock if I may get specific. We had planned to also get our tagging and vaccinating done on Sunday. We did not. There comes a point when one must recognize their limits. I was fairly certain that if we spent another moment with our animals they would all end up in the freezer. Sunday our yaks were our most pleasant animals.
Today I came home from work to discover that one of the lambs was out of the pasture. She had somehow managed to get herself tangled up in the fence and in the process broke off one of her little horns. Bloody mess.
Catching a lamb much like the mature sheep takes a significant level of commitment. Though you must be more delicate as they are smaller. A difficult balance to achieve. Eventually I caught her and in my infinite wisdom I decided it would be far easier to carry her to the house with me than to put her in the pasture, get the BluKote and try to catch her once again.
Molly and Polly are not like my little Nugget was. They are bonded to Calpernia and are most full of joy when I am leaving them alone. They are also far larger than Nugget was. They are easily forty pounds. Forty pounds doesn't seem to terribly difficult to carry until it's struggling in your arms the entire way. Molly was fully determined to escape. I knew if I let her down I would never recatch her, so I struggled the entire way. Finally we reached the house and I was able to get her wound sprayed. I sprayed my hands, legs and arms in the process. This is nice because I was always very curious what it would be like to be a smurf. I figured I'd halter her and walk her back to the pasture. Hilarious. The halters were both back at the pasture having been used and discarded during Sunday's escapade. Carrying her back. Endless Joy. One benefit of farm life is that I guess I'll probably get fit, or killed.
After getting her coated up and back to the pasture I checked the time. Wine o'clock again!
Here are a few pictures. I love that whenever Bella goes to the cow pasture Brisket comes over to give her a little kiss. Melts my cold black heart every time. Also, it's possible that Brisket is the cutest calf ever to live. He knows it too, little bud is all too happy to get right up for a picture.
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