Wet Sheep...

[livewell]

So yesterday, the guy with the butcher shop up the road was coming a 9 am to take away our lambs, which meant going out into the drizzle with Alex on my chest and round up the sheep that are spread all over the hayfield.

Now, sheep are not dumb exactly. They are just followers. So you really only need one of them following you and the rest should come along. Should.

So, DH left for chores at the usual time and i was left with our 3 month old son, the rest of the children being with the exes for the weekend visitation. So far so good. Alex has eaten, and is dry...oh, wait, one more diaper change...what's that? hungry again? OK, and we know what THAT means...so 10 minutes and another diaper change later...

As I mentioned, it was drizzling, which really, if I wanted to look at the bright side, is better than what we typically have 'round here for Halloween weekend...the dreaded "s" word. So, the mild weather is good. But dressing Alex for going out is a challenge, because, like his father, he is HOT BLOODED. As soon as you put on the first layer, the clock is ticking. One must be out soon enough, or he'll start to complain about the heat, which heats him up further, which makes him protest even more...which, you guessed it, heats him up MORE....keep it up too long and the only thing that will mollify him is more mama milk....

And the clock is ticking...

I managed to get him in the baby bjorn, my boots on, my jacket, the mini diaper bag, the bucket with a little grain in it and his hat and rain jacket on (albeit only one sleeve and the hood kind of draped on his hat)....and outside!! I am convinced he will be an outdoor kind of guy - his protests always cut off when he gets outside...

So, there we were, the light drizzle in the mild morning quite pleasant on my face (and presumable on his, since he made happy cooing sounds as he looked around), heading up to the furthest hayfield (naturally) where the flock is.

My DS might question his mother's species a little as I baa'd loudly over his head, trying to catch the woolly beast's attention, and questioned her sanity as she swung the bucket about, shaking the grain like a maraca.

The sheep ignored me.

I banged the handle against the side of the bucket, and lo and behold, one old gal lifted her head. I bleated again and she took a few steps in my direction, gaining the attention of a couple of others (and if you can get ONE following you, you are in the money). All this time, I was walking up the incline to where this field met the one closest to the barn, hoping I would not have to try and chase the sheep.

Finally, they were on the move. One by one, I could see them falling in line, and the leaders were starting to gain on me.

As you will remember, since I became pregnant, I developed a fear of our animals, starting with our cow, and then eventually spreading to fear of even the lambs!! Well, Alex is 3 months and on my chest instead of my belly, but....still a wee bit nervous...so I pick up my pace. So do the sheep. I am now at a fast walk and the flock is spread out behind me, but I could see very far up in the back field, a few stray heads still grazing.

So i have to stop and bleat at them, but the puts the forerunner only a dozen feet away from me. I turn and begin to trot, looking over my shoulder like one of those fools in a horror flick. I have DS in the carrier facing forward, and the fresh air has done it's magic - he's fast asleep, therefore more floppy...I can't stop to turn him around because I am now hard pressed to stay out of the lead sheep's reach, but can't walk too fast without jostling my baby terribly. I have my barn gloves on, a bucket of grain plus the diaper bag slug over my shoulder to further hamper me.

The grass is slippery and I am now facing the last obstacle...the last gate...if I can make it there, I should be home free, but there is a problem...where the opening in the gate is, there has been high traffic all through the days of typical Nova Scotian fall weather, resulting in a mire of mud, and sheep do not like wet feet...mud squishing through toes is NOT what the woolies want.

I am also very nervous because the path dips down and both the decline and incline are slippery slopes...sheep can smell fear, just like a cayote...they now hessitate...the ones in the back decide that the back part of this field looks good and start heading up that way...this confuses the middle and I end up with only about half the sheep following me into the barnyard.

DH is still milking and can't stop right then. I am on my own. What follows would take another journal entry to fully cover, but suffice it to say, when the fellow arrived to get the sheep about 30 min later, we (DH had finished milking by then) had managed to get the lambs sorted out and DH was soaked to the skin (wool is very good at holding water off the sheep's skin...heck, the wool is good for just holding water...I wish I could have got some action shots of him trying to wrestle a lamb into the holding pen, droplets of water spraying off the lamb like it's a dog shaking itself after a bath)

By this time, my back was not happy, I was STARVIN', and definately ready to go home...so I left DH to finish with the loading of the lambs and came back to write this...and now I realize, later into Monday evening, that if I tried to finish the story I would have a book, and be done sometime next year LOL

So...how was YOUR morning? Would you like a lamb chop?

[mmoleader]

Nov. 2, 2009 at 8:17 PM

I so don't want a lamb chop, but with my newly pregger bladder I think I peed myself! This was just too funny!

[Barbiewithabeef]

Nov. 3, 2009 at 2:22 PM

Really cute story and yes it would make the start of a great book! LOL Ya captured my attention!  I am glad you didn't slip on that decline and hurt yourself or your ds!

[ErikaRobin]

Nov. 5, 2009 at 2:12 PM

I totally thought you were going to fall on your ass.  So glad you didn't!   It wasn't the Clockwork Orange sheep that was in the lead, was it?   That would even freak ME out.  ;)

I love the way you write.  It's like a little conversation over coffee...or beer.

[livewell]

Nov. 5, 2009 at 8:56 PM

No, ErikaRobin, it was one of the old gals in the lead. We ate Malcolm MacLamb - but we did not play Beethovan's 9th...we are not monsters.

(Original Poster)

[mommeehunnybee]

Nov. 24, 2009 at 1:28 PM

I love the way you write, it's descriptive and pulls you into the story. And I didn't know you live in Nova Scotia... my DH and I have a running joke that we are going to move there. It's Nova Scotia, Alaska, or North Dakota. Hmmm.