Ram Rampant

I tried to get the ram into the flock's paddock this morning. No dice. As soon as he saw me, he stepped smartly out of the barn and scampered into the potting shed. He stayed there for hours. I know because I kept going out to look for him.

I left the gate to the paddock open in the hopes that when the flock moseyed down to graze, that he would tear up thinking of his poor, abandoned family and reassume his duties as pater familias. Finally, I did something right. On my last check, there he was. regal and on his feet. Always a good sign. He saw me and loathed me with every fibre of his being. He turned and trotted to the top of the far hill and stayed there while his harem gathered around him.

I closed the appropriate gates and left him there - a proud figure of a ram. Healthy and in charge once again. A true Ram Rampant. And I am very grateful for it. I admire him immensely and it thrills me to see him his old self. Needless to add, this admiration is a one way street. Still, I can't have everything. A healthy ram and a happy flock is good enough.

The Vet Cometh

My fellow Americans, it is with a grieving heart that I confess to you that I have let down the side. I was all set to prove to the Kiwis that Americans are tough - Marine tough - but when the ram pawed the ground and lowered his head at me, I dodged behind a tree. My forefathers at Lexington and Concord are rolling over as I write. I have shamed the name of Lord and the United States of America. This is how.

The ram was snuggled in straw at the doorway of the barn all day. He may have shifted position but I never saw him upright. I was very eager for the vet to arrive because I was afraid the poor thing would die any minute now.

Michelle had offered to help with the ram when Ross (the vet) arrived. I was a bit hazy as to my role but I am pretty sure that Michelle and Ross expected more from me than abject terror. Ross arrived and Michelle pulled in the driveway right behind him. We walked toward the barn and the ram, no dummy he, was on his feet and out of the barn on the verge. The same verge from which the crazy cows tried to kill me. Perhaps I can excuse what happened to me by claiming PTSD by cow.

Anyway, Michelle and Ross try to corral the ram and I amble along in the rear - far in the rear. The ram is having none of it. Ross who may have a white beard moves like a 20-yr-old blocking the ram and forcing him into a corner. The ram wheels, spots me (never his favorite person), paws the ground and lowers his head. Now Ross is right next to him, Michelle is in the middle distance and I am all the way by the gates but I just know that ram is aiming for me.  I wheel too - behind a tree. And there I stay while Michelle and Ross grab the ram, wrestle him to the ground, and cut his hooves. I stay behind the tree while they spray something on the hooves. I only approach when Ross whips out a hypodermic and gives the ram an antibiotic for the infection. I get the okay from Ross to let the ram back in with the flock and with a cheery goodbye to Michelle, the vet is gone.

Michelle and I try to get the ram out of the barn driveway and into the flock paddock. The ram runs into the potting shed and refuses to move. He is still there. I'll try to move him tomorrow. As someone once said, "Tomorrow is another day." It better be; I didn't cover myself with glory in this one.

Update

Life has a way of interferring with my plans and that is what has happened for the past two weeks. Some of the inteference was great. Very great was the unplanned trip to Wellington. I had never been there and was enthralled with the diversity of people, thought, and Food. I had a great time riding the ferry, the cable car, eating, and walking. Fabulous city.

Also great was my far north North Island visit to dear friends who have a lovely home perched high above a harbor and the vast Pacific Ocean which stretches in three directions. I am a simple Arizona girl and I get a shiver every time I think of being able to drive 15 minutes to the Pacific Ocean or 15 minutes in the opposite direction to the Indian Ocean. I have to say that the farm is very centrally located.

Not so great is the horrendous cold I got from Alessia who got it from play school. All of us are hacking, sneezing, honking, and croaking around. But at least I am back at the farm and that is always healing for me. Today is the first day I felt up to my saunter through the sheep. Everything was fine with the ewes and lambs - they didn't even run panic-stricken at the sight of me. Most of them didn't even move and the three that did simply ambled away a few feet.

But I have grave concerns about my nemesis the ram. He is huddled under a tree and didn't move when I approached. When I got near enough, he moved his head a few inches but that was all. Dan is calling around for a vet as I write this. If we can find one, the plan is that I stay here through the week to nurse the ram, pay the vet, etc. My concern is fairly obvious. How do you nurse a ram? If he's too sick to resist, my ministrations may kill him and if he improves, he may resent me even more. When I know more, I'll let you know.

Amazing Sheep

The view from the Sheep's Paddock

                                              
I have been in Auckland for the past few days and just got back to the farm. The sheep acted as if they didn't know me which was an improvement. They all froze in place as I squelched my way down the drive. Yes, it's still raining. Don't ask. So I get to the gate and start to climb over. Red alert! Red alert! Sheep running everywhere. The brown ewe starts bleating for her lamb. Said lamb scrambles heroically toward Moms. Unfortunately Snowball is not the Einstein of the herd and she can't find her way through the far gate. She wanders desconsolately up and down the fence mere inches away from the gate. Never figures out that gate thing. The brown ewe keeps on bleating forelornly.

Finally the Einstein of the herd who has never before shown the slightest interest in another sheep's lamb, goes to Snowball and gently nudges her through the gate. And then, turns and goes back down the hill. Selfless heroism since you can never tell when I'll show up with knife and fork in hand. That nudging deed brought her perilously close to me (just about a city block away). I am amazed at that random act of kindness. I am turning it over in my mind even now. The sheep had to have done it on purpose or she would have gone through the gate herself. I know it wasn't Snowball's mother because Snowball's mom is our only brown ewe. Was she just tired of hearing the bleating, or was her heart touched by poor Snowball trotting up and down the fence line? Or was she just plain embarrassed by the sheer stupidity of the other sheep? No answers yet.

Speaking of stupidity brings me back to possums. The new favorite feeding ground is where I just planted 50 daffodil bulbs. So Dan has taken to putting the familiar bright yellow trap right there. I mean school bus yellow. You'd think even a possum would notice it. They do. They head right for it. (Sorry, bad pun.) They stick those snouts right in and right down comes the metal thing and thwack, the neck is broken. Dan has collected quite a few in the new hunting fields.

Last night he was due to go to a farmers' meeting so put out the trap before dark. He left for the meeting a bit before 7pm and already had bagged his quota for the night. In a hurry, he released the body, reset the trap and left the possum lying inches from the trap. He was surprised !! in the morning that he hadn't gotten another victim. I figure even possums aren't dumb enough to step over a corpse to stick their heads in the trap.