An Ovine Adventure - Part I

I can say without fear of contradiction that I am not RAMbo’s favorite person. And yet he was cooperation itself in my latest ovine adventure. Before going down to Auckland, Dan inspected the flock and came back to the kitchen with an ominous concern. He thought he had seen evidence of fly strike in 2 of the ewes and one of the new rams.

What to do? What to do? There is only one thing to do. Gather the flock in the red, red barn’s corral and call in an ovine specialist. Our first line of defense is always Dave, our neighbor and stock specialist. Unfortunately Dave was at work. So then we turn to our sheep  specialists: the John and Paula team of sheep shearers and we rely on both of them for our information. Then if necessary we call in the vet.

So Dan called John who is very busy this time of year with shearing but agreed to drop by and take a look. But (a big but) he didn’t have time to hike paddock #2 and check out 17 sheep. They would have to be corralled for a concentrated viewing.

Since Dan had to work, It was necessary to fall back on the second team – Yael and me! Now I like being needed. I am always half afraid that I’ll do something particularly stupid (Yes even more stupid than those acts recorded in this blog) and I’ll be booted out of paradise.

So I accepted the challenge and Yael and I gathered a rope to make a guide line to usher the sheep through Paddock #1 (which for some reason you have to go through to get to the gate to #2.) Down we go and Yael doesn’t even hesitate at the broken gate but climbs over. I follow suit. Then we decide that I should circle up paddock #1, open the upper gate and drive the sheep down to the rope line where Yael will escort them to the corral.

It looks so nice and neat written that way in my Ariel font. Reality is a lot messier. First it had rained, making climbing steep hills a whole lot of fun. Second, the sheep weren’t too enthusiastic about leaving paddock #2. Actually it was probably more that they weren’t enthusiastic about anything I wanted them to do. But I kept at it. I zigzagged back and forth trying to keep the flock together. No such luck. They insisted on splitting into factions.

One faction would hug the fence line and the other would trot smartly across the entire paddock and hug the other fence line. Then they would swap sides. Finally, they stood waiting for King RAMbo to amble down and lead the way. In this fashion I finally got them down to within sniffing distance of the gate, Yael, and the rope line. At which point they turned and ran back up the paddock.

I waited for a few sour words to leave my mouth, softly so I wouldn’t offend Yael whose biggest curse is “sugar” and that rarely. Back up I went. This time Yael entered the paddock and I gestured her to stand point at the far fence to  prevent flock splitting. Our next concern was that the sheep would bolt down the paddock, through the rope line and mingle with the steers in paddock #1.

I am happy to report that none of that happened. The sheep whirled away from Yael (and me) and followed a determined ewe down the paddock, along the rope line and into the corral as slick as you please. Yael and I scampered down to close gates, push our way through 17 sheep in one small corral, and return to the kitchen to report progress.

Then Yael and Dan packed up the girls and headed down to Auckland and I went back to my room to read and wait for John to call. And that will be my next blog. The adventure continues! Just like an old Pearl White continuing cliff hanger. The only difference is that mine is real. Talk to you soon.