Death Spiral

Tuesday has now morphed into Wednesday and there is no improvement. Since I am to check the water tank every day, I did so today. It was losing water. I was instructed how to look for the leak and I did so and found one. Then it was up to the tank, climb over the fence and turn the valve.

Have you ever tried climbing a fence situated in a hillside where the ground beneath you is significantly lower than the fence rails? I have and I can’t do it. I pondered this a while and finally walked around the tank to the upper side, climbed on the fence and inched my way around and then dropped down inside next to the valve. All in the know how, folks, all in the know how.

I haven’t been feeling to knowledgeable lately. I still can’t find my gardening gloves and have to do things like climb fences bare handed. Not good for the manicure. Just joking; even I’m not crazy enough to pay money for a manicure given what these hands go through each day. I am still priming wood and my hands, and fingernails, are a bright, shiny white. And I didn’t have to pay a dime!

Dan asked me to move the 2 steers from #4 to #2. Sounds simple; only 2 steers and they’re both pussycats. Of course it’s not simple. Nothing is simple for me on the farm. First, I am obsessed with the idea of sink holes and stomp my cane through the paddocks as I gingerly pick my way toward the steers. Don’t laugh, there was an ancient city called Ubar in Southern Oman that fell into a gigantic sink hole when its underground caverns collapsed. It could happen here! Hence, my shuffle like walk.

This weird walk disconcerts the steers and they refuse to move gently into #2. Actually, they refuse to do anything I want. Instead they race merrily up and down the hill, sprinting, leaping, and in general acting as if it were Spring not Fall. So, after 6 gallant attempts up and down the paddock, I concede and go call Dan.

Up comes Dan with the much appreciated orange juice (yes, I have ANOTHER cold) and I plod around opening gates while Dan cajoles the steers meekly into the proper paddock.

It is while on gate duty that I see another dead sheep. We are fast mounting the death board around here. I know she was fine on Saturday but I didn’t check them Sunday since I was playing grandma all day with the girls. Monday morning I just looked up the hill but didn’t go into the paddock. I defy anyone to tell a dead sheep from all the surrounding sheep who are also lying down.

Anyway, Dan and I inspect the sheep. Now that was fun! We can’t see any obvious cause of death. She had been put with the ram so she might have been pregnant and aborted but there is no evidence of that. I don’t say this to Dan, but I think she could have died of a broken heart. It was one of her twin lambs who died in the sink hole. That nasty ole sink hole once again.

We ended up putting the steers in paddock #1 and they spent a significant amount of time inspecting the fence around the sink hole. It is said that cows rarely fall into sink holes but our guys looked as if they were challenging the local lore. Anyway, thanks to Dan’s prompt action, the sink hole is fenced off (see below) and we, hopefully, won’t have any more broken hearted mothers lying down and dying. In fact, I would just love it if this death spiral were to end. Right now!