Silly Sheep

When I told Alessia (aged 2)  about our adventures moving the sheep on Sunday, she giggled and kept repeating “silly sheep” as the tale unfolded. I’m not too sure who was sillier, the 13 sheep or the 2 humans trying to move them to another paddock.

Dan and I moved the steers to the infamous no. 1 paddock with no trouble other than my wheezing and puffing as I scaled the Mt. Everest of our farm’s paddocks. Anyway, Dan got them moving at a brisk trot and off they went, right through the gate.

Feeling pretty good about our herding skills, we drove back up to the paddock in front of the main house which had been home to our beloved sheep for a week. This paddock is really not in shape for livestock but we felt all that good grass shouldn’t go to waste. So there they were. We shut all the gates, positioned the car as a barrier, moved the fence slats, etc. We were ready to move ‘em out.

Unfortunately they weren’t ready to be moved. They scampered off down to the woods. And back. And back down to the woods. And back. Get the pattern? I was of very little help but no real hindrance. My time would come; it always does.

Dan and I finally get the boss ram and three of his flock out of the paddock and heading down to no. 2 paddock. The rest swirl around in ever increasingly panicked mode. Finally a few more figure out how to get out and off they go. And we are left with 4 including Snowball, our adolescent ram.

We had heard that keeping 2 rams might cause the flock to split allegiances and ours certainly did. We had planned to send Snowball to greener pastures around the end of the year. This experience has caused us to move up our timetable.

Snowball bolts out of the paddock and turns left not right. Left, directly past the car blocking (hah, hah) his path. Down the driveway, along the sidewalk past my precious garden, around the house and onto the patio. Here he starts investigating our shrubs, flowers, and barbeque.

Now because of the configuration of our land, our main house and patio sit about 4 feet above the paddock. There is a wood retaining wall around it. Normally there is also electrified tape above that but the rampant cows took that out a few months ago and we hadn’t gotten around to replacing it.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Snowball calls his accolates and up and over the wall jumps one of the ewes. The other two bleat forelornly and race around the paddock making huge springy jumps over nothing at all. Dan gamely heads off after Snowball and accolate. I stay standing where I have been positioned.

The 2 sheep jump back into the paddock urged on by Dan and his trusty wand. Then they start racing up and down again. I stand. Dan goes up and down after them. Finally they begin to tire, and more slowly move up toward the driveway. Very slowly Dan shuffles them toward the opening and they are through! And heading down toward the main herd.

Are our troubles over? Of course not. Dan gets the car to go past them and block off the road past the entrance to paddock no. 2. I walk after the sheep to keep them moving ever downward.

Now in my defense, I was worrying about getting those sheep past the orchard, past the red, red barn and into paddock no. 2. There is no barrier to keep them from running into any of the 3 aforementioned diversions.

The sheep defy logic and keep wanting to walk up the hill and not take the easy road down. So I have my hands full turning them around and moving them back. Dan has given me his wand and I have a lot of fun waving it in slow, wide arcs. The sheep don’t seem impressed.

They gather in a corner near where the fence makes two sides of a triangle and seem perfectly content to camp there forever. The grass is good, I have trouble with the footing so that weird wand isn’t waving about in their faces. Life is good.

Just one problem, they aren’t in paddock no. 2. So Dan starts hiking up from the gate to help me shift the sheep. But tho I see him, it doesn’t really register. Perhaps a senior moment? I’ll try that as an excuse when the time is right. I make a surge – wand in hand – at the sheep. They rush away from the fence and get back to the road. They have two choices, left and up the hill or right and down into Dan’s face. They pick left. And run up out of sight. Dan looks for one long moment at me and then bends over, hands on knees and sighs.

Up he goes to the top of the hill. I obey orders and go down the hill to stand by the car. It takes a while but here come the sheep and Dan. He calls to me to get behind the car (less visible and less apt to screw things up again).

All my worries about the orchard, the barn, and the no. 1 paddock are for naught. The sheep see the car (and probably me) and make a sharp right turn into the lane to the correct paddock, trot right pass the diversions and into no. 2 paddock.

So all’s well that ends well? Right, Dan? And I leave it to you to decide. Who’s sillier, the sheep or me?