Flipping Sheep

A few days ago I went up in the morning to feed the girls, check their water and then check on the boys.  It was all pretty standard until I walked up to the gate that divides the girls from the boys.  Levy was lying on his back, feet in the air, head up against the fence. That’s got to be a dead sheep, I thought, worse, he has the best fleece in the flock.  What the hell?  I turned yelling to Todd who I thought might be by the driveway with my visiting brother, Phil.  Once again, I did that move of thinking I can’t solve this on my own, I needed Todd to be part of the solution.  Sheep aren’t supposed to be on their backs and I stopped calling for Todd, wedged open the gate and looked more closely at Levy.   His fleece is so long it covers his eyes, but I heard him breath and knew I had to get this enormous 125 pound puffy ball of fleece back up on his feet.  He is jacketed to keep the fleece clean, so I stood between his front leg and hind quarters, reached across his belly, and pulled the hem of the jacket toward me hoping he’d roll to his side.  There was just enough slope to the ground that he rolled right over, and in seconds I had him right side up, but not standing.  Gurgling sounds came from his belly and he made no effort to get up.  I’ve no idea how long he was inverted, but it was clear he had slipped on the icy surface and had been there long enough to have his guts complaining.  After a few minutes he rose ever so slowly and stood still.  A few hours later, he was down by the feeder, good as knew.  It’s a reminder that four years in, I haven’t seen it all. 

Peggy

Ps: That’s Levy on the left