Author: Ann Marie Hardin

Dang Dog

Ann Marie HardinLeave a comment

I think every puppy gets a post like this. And it’s really, at the base of it all, our fault. We know it – every time. As usual, we haven’t spent enough time actually training the puppy, and now we get to pay the price for that. The good news is that no-one was hurt. The only potential casualty is my cell phone, and maybe a pair of shoes. I should start at the beginning.

Steve had asked Mr. Professional to check on chicks at the local feed supply store. Steve had not mentioned this to me, but Mr. Professional had, so I was not completely surprised by the early morning text from Steve begging for Sarah and I to bail him out and pick up the chicks, all necessary supplies, and get the brooder out of the chicken coop where it lives. He assured us the chicks would be ready at 10:00am, and that the feeder and waterer were in the brooder. Now, it’s important to understand that for the past several years we have been timing our chick purchase so that they can brood out in the coop in the baby Fort Knox Steve built for this exact purpose. So it’s been a while since we have used this particular setup.

Sarah was tasked with getting the brooder all put together while I picked up chicks, bedding, feed and a new heat lamp. As is usual, when I arrived, I was told things were not exactly as we had anticipated. I thought I was picking up 25 reserved chicks of unknown breed. The feed and supply place said they weren’t doing reservations this year and the limit was 10 chicks. At that time I was only the fourth person to show up for chicks so I took my number and gave the chicken lady my sob story. She said she would ease up on the limit since it didn’t look like too many people were waiting (there were only four of us at that moment) but that the chicks wouldn’t be ready to go for another forty minutes or so. Well, the feed and supply store is never a place I mind shopping in, so I wandered around, filling my cart with things we need or will need soon. I picked up some T-post sprinklers for the pasture we are going to reseed this year, some new gardening gloves for when I can eventually get into the garden, and the chicken supplies. I didn’t do too bad. Only two items of clothing made it into my cart. The rest were honest-to-goodness farm necessities. Really they were. I went back to the chicken lady with my number 4 in hand, and discovered that there were now 11 people waiting for chicks. I was not going to get my desired 25. But, I talked her into 12, so I could live with that. I checked out, got loaded up, and dove home.

Sarah had everything set up, but after some consultation and consideration of the coming holiday (Easter is in 10 days), we decided we needed to move the chicks upstairs to inside office (as opposed to my new office). So, the bedding, the brooder, the headlamp, feed, feeder, and what Sarah thought was the waterer went upstairs. It turns out the waterer was missing. What Sarah thought was a waterer was another feeder. We got the bedding spread, and the chicks in the brooder, and I tasked Sarah with filling the feeder while I called Steve to see where he thought the waterer might be. All of his suggestions were various locations in the coop, so I kept him on the phone so he could offer clarifications while I went out the the chicken coop. All was well until I opened the side gate.

Chance, who had not rushed a gate in ages dashed out that gate and straight to the overturned horse feeder where the rooster and a hen were sheltering from the rain. The hen beat her off and ran for the coop, so she turned her attention to the rooster. She chased him all over the ram pasture, with me shouting, “Chance, No!” at regular intervals, while not chasing her since that would only enhance the game. Eventually the rooster turned his circle back towards the coop, and hunkered down in a corner behind me. I wasn’t able to get my hands on the puppy, but I was able to give the rooster a chance to get to safety. Chance was not too sad, and took off for a turn around the pasture. I was done yelling at her, and called her over so she could get back in the yard. All was going well – she was actually coming back – until she noticed the gate to the sheep was open. She put on the brakes and dashed through that gate at full speed.

Now I was chasing her, and hollering, “NO!!” since she was headed for the babies and mommas. She ran them back into the barn and turned to look at me as if to say, “Didn’t I do good!” I called her back and again everything looked OK. Until she saw the one lone ewe. There is something about loners that turns the dogs’ brains off. Chance locked on and wouldn’t let up. She was pushing the ewe towards, which would have been fine, but the ewe was panicked, and slipped in the creek. The next thing I knew, Chance was also in the creek nipping at the ewe’s back legs. I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say she was not actively trying to hamstring the ewe, but that is sure what it looked like! So I had pretty much no choice but to jump in the creek too and drag the dog off. Now we were all three in a corner by the little foot bridge at the end of the momma-baby pen and were in pretty close proximity to one another. I had Chance by the scruff. She kept eyeing the ewe until I finally started correcting that behavior – firmly. Chance go the message and eventually started sucking up to me. In the meantime, Mouse had decided to come help and was laying down pinning the ewe in place with his border collie stare. I needed help. So I tried to use Siri to call Sarah. Apparently Siri did not appreciate my panicked tone of voice and refused to respond. So I laid my cell phone on the nearby bridge and operated it one-handed to call Sarah. She came running out. She was able to call Mouse off, which freed the ewe to cross over the bridge (where my cell phone was still sitting) and run into the ram pasture. I got Chance and me up out of the creek, and realized my cell phone was no longer on the bridge. Yep – it was in the cold muddy rushing creek – nowhere in sight. My shoes were full of mud and water, and I was wet up to my knees. Sarah came back and took Chance. I knelt down on the bridge and felt around the creek bottom. Miraculously I touched my cell phone and was able to fish it out. There was no apparent damage, and it was still on, so I am hopeful.

The ewe was walking rather stiffly, but made it back to the barn where she can dry out and warm up. Chance is completely unrepentant and is unaware of the forthcoming nightly training sessions. I’m pretty sure my shoes are ruined. My cell phone might recover. It’s supposed to be able to tolerate water up to 6 feet for up to 30 minutes. We will see.

There was no chick waterer in the coop. Steve is picking one up on his way home.

It’s so confusing

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Being born must be really confusing. This morning, I was all dressed for work and headed down the driveway. I habitually look over the animals on my way out, and this morning I found something that made me stomp on the brakes. We had a new lamb in the orchard. We were kind of expecting this, since at least one of the little ewes we had put into isolation with the ram turned out to be old enough for him to be interested. But, we were about a week off in our timing. This normally wouldn’t be too much of a problem, but the lamb was not snuggling up next to momma. No, the lamb was attempting to snuggle up next the the (male) alpaca.

Momma kept calling and trying to get the lamb to come to her, but the alpaca was unhelpfully friendly and attentive. I called Steve and told him he needed to come home and help me isolate the pair. Then I backed the car up so I could go change out of town clothes and into work clothes.

Now the sheep are in the orchard with the two trouble-maker alpaca, and all our gates, panels, and sheep isolation paraphernalia is in the barn. So out to the barn I go. On the way out, I devise a plan that involves the two brown gates we had purchased this winter placed in a corner of the orchard to make a pen. We would have to arrange for water, but the ewe would have plenty of feed, and we could choose a corner with a tree for shelter.

Once I got into the bar, it became clear that my plan has a flaw. Unbeknownst to me, Steve had used one of the brown gates in the new fence, so only one of those was available. I wrestled that one out of Steve’s storage place under the stairs, and packed it over to the orchard anyway. I figured Steve would be home soon, and he’d want to “discuss” my plan anyway, so we could figure out how to improvise the missing gate.

As I was wrestling the gate into the orchard, I realize I was quiet. I noticed the alpaca had moved off away from the sheep, and the little black ewe appeared to be laying down. I went out to the road so as not to disturb anyone, and walked down to Mom’s so I could get a better look. Sure enough. I found the ewe laying down, and could just make out the lamb’s head on the far side of her. Apparently the alpaca had lost interest, and momma was able to convince baby that she/he was a sheep. Steve arrived just in time for me to tell him that all was well.

All I wanted was a nap

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I’ve been fighting the holiday plague this year and so stayed home on Christmas Day. Really, all I wanted was to go back to sleep in the hopes that I could finally and completely kick this bug. The big dogs were outside and had asked to come in, so I opened the door, and heard the dreaded cry of a lamb. I am physically unable to ignore that cry. Yes, I know that nine times out of ten, it is just a temporary separation between mamma and baby, or the first cry of a newborn, but that one time out of ten when there is a problem keeps me going out to check. So, I came back in and drug my sick carcass back to the laundry room where the cold weather gear lives. I suited up and trudged by way out. Sure enough, there was a brand new little single. The ewe was attentive but jumpy and every time I tried to move the main horde out, she tried to follow, with that little newborn in tow. Since it was clear that she was attentive, and the lamb was doing well, I opted to just lock everyone in so she didn’t drag the poor little thing out into the falling snow.
Newborn lamb surrounded by ewes.

Mika was standing at the entry to her dry area looking pretty miserable. I think her healing foot gets a little achy when it gets cold, so I let her in and brushed the snow off her foot while I was out there. By this time I had exhausted my energy reserves, so I went back inside for my postponed nap.

A few hours later, it was approaching an early feeding time, and the ewes likely needed a chance to get some water, so I once again donned my cold weather apparel and waded through the snow out to the barn. The single was fine and had been joined by yet another new arrival. No, not a twin, although I thought that was the case for a minute, but one of our yearling ewes was paying attention to the newest arrival. She, however, was just as jumpy as the first mamma, and I just wasn’t up to the rodeo. Everyone was doing there jobs so I once again opted to leave them alone. I did open the doors and let everyone go to water if they wished. They apparently were no worse for the wear, as there was not a rush to go out in the snow. It was late afternoon by this time, so I went ahead and fed, mostly to keep the new mothers inside and calm as they adjusted to their new additions. I really do enjoy hanging out watching the babies bounce after I have fed, and I’ve missed this as the ram had made it impossible unsafe to just hang out in the barn. I find I’m not missing him very much.

I texted Steve (he and Sarah had gone to his mother’s house in town for Christmas dinner) that there were two new singles in the barn, and that everyone had been fed. He would just need to make sure everyone was in their designated nighttime locations and close gates and doors when he got home. He must have been enjoying his conversation as he did not respond, but I was ready for another nap. When he got home he delivered my gifts and plate from dinner (thank you Robbie) and went out to settle everyone. He found a total of three singles, all from first time mothers, but all doing well. But really, two trips out to the barn were not in my plans for the day.

Punched his ticket

Ann Marie Hardin1 Comment

Well, the ram has punched his ticket.  I went out Friday morning to open the barn door and let the sheep out.  Part of this ritual is a walk through the sheep to see if any lambs have arrived over night.  None have as of yet, but that doesn’t negate the importance of the process.  The ram has been giving me the evil eye and thinking about challenging me, so I always have my handy dissuader (an axe handle we found at Grandma Lane’s house that we think was Grandpa’s interruder deterrent) with me.  Prior to Friday, simply taking a ready stance and reminding the ram that I was prepared had been sufficient.  Friday, he decided to test me.  Here’s the problem.    My bluff is exactly that – a bluff.  If hitting him with an axe handle broadside across his nose, ears and head is insufficient to deter him, he will win.  He won.

No, I didn’t go down, and he only solidly connected once, but this was only because he insisted on backing up half the length of the barn to get a good solid running start at me.  This gave me time to make sure my swing was ready and accurate, and also gave me time to keep backing up.  Yes, experts will say I should have stood my ground and humiliated him into submission, but really, when he is just coming right through good solidly connecting full force whacks to the head with an axe handle, I don’t have a prayer of actually winning.  My main goal was to minimize bodily damage, keep my feet, and get the heck out of there.  I succeeded in all three, emerging with only a very impressive knot and accompanying bruise on my left thigh and some muscle soreness, probably from adrenaline.  Yes, I was shaking all over by the time I got through the door.

So, the ram has punched his ticket.  This will be his last season on the farm.  We are planning to keep a ram lamb from one of our gentle friendly Kahtadin cross ewes.  They have consistently mellow temperaments.  As soon as that ram lamb is about 9 months old, this ram is going to go in the freezer.  He’ll make very nice sausage.  In the meantime, I don’t go out to the barn without the dogs.  He’s still afraid of the dogs.

My Turn

Ann Marie HardinLeave a comment
I guess it’s my turn for all the….challenges during lambing time.  I found the first set of twins of the year, and called Tisha to pick up that bummer.  A couple of days later, I went out and found another set of twins.  Again, it the mother was a stupid first time mother, and I couldn’t get them into the baby area.  It was morning, and I needed to get to work, so I hoped for the best, and told the mama to stay in the barn.  Of course, she didn’t listen.  That night when Steven & I went out to feed and get them set up.  No babies.  The only thing we could figure was that the stupid mama went too far out on the hillside and the lambs couldn’t keep up.  But no one was upset and looking for babies, so now I’m not sure.  Particularly since the sheep had access to the entire barnlot as well as the back hillside that day.  And I didn’t notice the tag number on the ewe.  Just that she was wild as a march hare, and had two small brown babies.  I’m particularly wondering, given what I found when I went out tonight.

Everything was going fine.  Steve had left the sheep locked in just the back lot, right behind the barn.  They have access to water, and the feed is in the barn.  There really isn’t any feed out on the hillside right now anyway, so it’s not a big deal to keep them close, and it made us feel better given the lost twins.  It was cold, so the sheep had put themselves inside already.  Zeke, Mouse and I feed the sheep, and I went out to feed the horses.  I stepped over to put hay in the first feeder, looked down, and saw something I did not expect to see.  There was a ewe, with two little babies curled up next to the horse feeder.  I stared for a minute, re-evaluated my plan, and fed the horses on the ground outside the barn.  Then I closed a gate to keep the horses from messing with the sheep, and to keep the ewe where she was.  I went inside and called Steve to consider my plan.  I was, of course, home alone and no one was expected until well after 7:00pm.

Sheep in horse stall.  Not where they are supposed to be!

Just yesterday, I had asked Steve to get me a cow panel to hang in the barn to use for sheep control when I was alone with a wildling.  I thought about it and decided that with the two panels I had in the barn and one closed gate, I could make a fairly straight shot from the horse stalls to the temporary baby area we had set up in that end of the barn.  I waited until Sarah got home, so I had backup handy in case I needed it, and headed out with Zeke.  I made him lay down and wait while I muscled the panels into place (OK – I actually did more dragging than lifting, but still…) and secured them with a couple of handy dandy rubber strap bungie cords.  I stood back and figured as long as she didn’t hit it too hard it should hold.

I laid Zeke down outside her area so she wouldn’t try those panels and hurt herself or a baby, then I went in and decided to try the lamb lure.  I wasn’t expecting much success, because I figured this was another stupid first time mother, but to my surprise, she was actually pretty strongly bonded to those babies.  She was still pretty flighty, and pretty much ran circles around me, but she stayed in the general area of the babies, even with me holding them.  We got inside, and I watched to make sure everyone would get sorted out again.  All looks good.  But dang the year is starting out strangely.