Epilogue

Just when I thought I was finished with sheep for the foreseeable future, along came the epilogue. Remember how a week earlier Dan had thought he saw fly strike on several of the sheep? John (the sheep expert) and I saw nothing. And there we left it for a week.

The following Friday Dan came into the kitchen to announce that he was fairly certain that at least 3 of the sheep had fly strike. I didn’t say anything; it was up to him, but honestly, I still hadn’t seen any signs. But Dan called John who agreed to shoehorn us in to his very busy schedule the next day. You have to love these Kiwis. They have to be the nicest people on the planet. It was left that John would call about lunch time and give us a rough idea of his arrival time and we would have the sheep corralled for him.

Come lunch time, so did John. No phone call, just John. Dan had gone for a walk to show the farm to a friend from Auckland and John was very clear that he had no time to waste. I was afraid that he would hurry off to his next shearing so without getting my cane (essential for traversing the paddocks or my hat) I took off to shepherd the sheep.

John would go down to the red, red barn, aka the wool shed, and get set up while I opened the gates and started the sheep moving. When John was finished, he and his sheep dogs would come help me. I was also to keep calling for Dan so he could participate.

So here I am hatless in the broiling sun, struggling manfully up the paddock without my cane and shouting “Dan” into the face of strong winds. A picture to remember. But I was sticking with it. The Lords never say ‘die’ or something like that. The only problem is that I can’t find the sheep.

They aren’t in paddock #4, or #3 and I am stumped until I come over the rise and see them docilely filing into the corral. And who is that behind them? Dan. His friend is already seated in the front row bleachers (the fence).  Something seems a little strange about him but I am too far away to see properly. Up close is a different story. He is soaked from the knees down. He was chasing a lamb and fell into one of our infamous brooks. So I’m not the only one.

I join the party but the men are all horrified that I am risking sun stroke and so I walk (in the sun) back up to the house and drink a ton of water. Dan later comes in and informs us that 3 ewes were severely stricken with fly strike and RAMbo and another ewe were in the early stages. I have to give kudos to my son. He knew when the rest of us didn’t. I asked him how he could find fly strike when neither John nor I could. “I stood and watched them for almost an hour. I just felt that there was something wrong.” Now that’s a farmer!