Most mornings, Jack and I walk down the 300 yard driveway to get the morning Valley News and the previous day’s mail delivery. It’s getting to be a routine I enjoy, and I hope he does, too. Monday morning the driveway was slick with ice – it was pretty funny watching his paws slip every few steps as he ran down the hill.
This morning, as we headed out, I looked up into the barnyard and was a bit perplexed by the sight – many of the ewes were lying or standing in the snow just inside the gate. Hmmm, that’s not a behavior I’ve seen before. As we got closer, I noticed one of the animals was following another around in the yard. Another strange behavior, almost like a ram would do. I stepped off the driveway into the snow near the fence to get a closer look at the fence that separates the rams from the ewes. Sure enough, there was a break in the fence. The boys were in with the girls.
I turned right around and headed back to get Peg. Jack is now definitely confused – why aren’t we going down the hill? As I get to the back door, Peg is standing there. I tell her about the rams. “Do you want to move them now?” she asked. Yes. But then she says, “is one of the sheep dead?” Now why would she ask that?
I turn back towards the barnyard while Peg gets her coat and boots on. (Jack, now thoroughly confused with this back and forth stuff.) As I get closer, I do in fact see one animal off to the side lying on the ground. I yell this to Peg as I enter the barnyard. OK, I’m thinking, this could be Eros (Nash was the one following the ewe around). The two of them got into a head butting contest with all the ewes getting their juices flowing, and Eros came out the worse for it.
I approach the animal and kneel down in the snow next to it (in my flannel pajama bottoms – I was just going down to get the fricking paper!). Its legs are flailing weakly and its making a “glug glug” noise – at least its alive! I pick its head up to see its ear tag – 534. That’s one of the Cormo ewes (even after three years, I can’t keep their names straight – Peg later looks it up: Rosie, 10 years old). I push on her body to try to get her to stand up. She gets up on four legs, but then falls back on her front “elbows”. She is definitely groggy and slow-moving. Heck, if she were normal she wouldn’t let me even stand next to her. Peg comes into the barnyard as I again try to get her to stand, this time successfully.
What could be wrong? One of the ewes had been looking pretty thin a few weeks ago, and we gave her some deworming medicine, but this isn’t the same one. Peg thinks we should look at her eye for signs of anemia (from a heavy worm load) but it’s too dark still to really see anything. She pulls out a little LED flashlight. “That doesn’t work,” I say. “It did when I picked it up.” Sure enough it won’t turn on. “Three flashlights at the back door and none of them work,” Peg mutters. Batteries in stockings Christmas morning.
We decide to give Rosie both a shot of antibiotics and a dose of dewormer. Peg goes to get the stuff. I just stand next to the ewe for several minutes. She seems to be coming around, but isn’t walking away and is tolerating my standing three feet in front of her. The other sheep start getting curious and approach us. Peg comes back, gives her a shot, then uses the same syringe (without the sharp) to pour a hefty dose of dewormer down her throat. Nothing more we can do here.
Now, on to the rams. Fortunately, rams are nowhere near as skittish as ewes. AND they are pretty distracted by all the ewes around them. If I can just keep the ewes from running away from me, I can approach the rams, get my arms around them, and push them back on their side of the fence. Nash is first, and I am lucky enough to capture him only feet from the break in the fence. I push him in. Back in the barnyard, Eros is further away but is following a ewe that is walking towards me. I get my arms around him, and after riding him around for probably 30 seconds, am able to get him back in the boys’ yard. We close off a gate that keeps them down in the east field until I can fix the fence. (Note, the two wethers that spend time with the rams – Levi and Schuyler – were still in the east field. It wasn’t a total breakout.)
Peg heads down to get the paper as I head back to get the power drill and some screws. Jack, who has been running around and barking outside the fence while all the commotion was going on, starts following Peg then runs back to me. I encourage him to go with Peg, and he does. Regarding the barking, he tends to do that when he sees us working with the sheep. If we’re putting jackets on them, and he is there, he will bark.
I repair the fence, again kneeling in the poop-infested snow in my flannel pj pants. How did it break? When I made the panels in 2012 I used to put two screw eyes on each end for the rebar to pass through to hold the panels together. Unfortunately, these can get ripped right out – as happened last night.
Screw Eye
I’ve since upgraded to using strap ties. I bend them into a half loop and secure them with four deck screws – two in each end
Strap Tie
Why was I kneeling in the snow? I had to do the repair work in place. I set the fencing up before the ground freezes in the fall and I hammer the rebar into the ground. There was no way I could pull the rebar out. It only took a few minutes.
Repair Job
TODD’S THEORY OF THE CASE
Last night, one or both of the rams was leaning or even pushing against the fence. The screw eye on the bottom of the panel gave way and the panel got pushed up enough for the strap tie to come free from the top of the rebar, letting the panel swing like a gate for the boys to enter. Upon entering, they started chasing the ewes around. As Rosie was running to get away from one of them, she slipped and fell in the snow and landed at such an angle that she couldn’t bring her feet under to get back up. Last winter, we found Levi in a similar position in the snow. He, too, was very slow moving after we got him back on his feet, but he fully recovered. We hope Rosie will as well.
Todd
P.S. Why DID Peg ask about a dead sheep? “Because when I saw you stop and look at the barnyard, I went into the bedroom to see what made you stop and that’s when I saw a big brown blob in the snow.”