Author: Nicole Doyle

As well as the ‘daily hay ceremony‘ which I wrote about a couple of months ago, I thought I would write a few words about another little ceremony which the sheep really enjoy; the daily ‘nut ceremony’.

Sheep go absolutely bonkers for their nuts.  I should add, these are not actual nuts, ‘sheep nuts’ are rolled pellets containing a variety of grains and legumes.

Like the hay, we only do the ‘nut ceremony’ during the winter when the sheep appreciate a little extra nutrition.

First thing every morning I scoop a carefully measured amount into a bucket, then, bucket in one hand, dog leads in the other I call the the dogs and off we go.

Our sheep are really good at telling the time.  They come down to the paddock exactly half an hour before I make an appearance and stand in a group looking towards the house.

Then they watch me walking along the fence round the outside of the paddock before moving as one unit to the gate which stands between them and the troughs soon to be filled with ‘nuts’.

I used to fill the troughs while the sheep milled around me but this proved slightly hazardous and required my wits about me, not a great situation to be in before I’ve had my breakfast.  Sheep can be quite adept at rugby and thought nothing of tackling me to the ground if it meant they could stick their head in a bucket.

These days I put the troughs in a separate part of the paddock and close the gate before the sheep come down so they can’t get up to tricks.  This makes life much easier and is also very amusing to watch when I open the gate and the sheep bundle through closely followed by Elliot who likes to join in the scrum.

 

 

 

 

From the end of October through to the beginning of April (give or take), we move the little darlings onto hay.  During the winter, the grass pretty much stops growing and what grass there is isn’t very tasty or nutritious.  While many sheep are thrifty and do fine in the leaner winter months, ours are a lowland breed and appreciate their creature comforts.  We also have several elderly ladies in our flock who need a little extra tlc.

As well as providing the teddies with daily hay, over the years of keeping sheep we’ve come to realise what our woolly friends really appreciate is having somewhere to get out of the elements, whether that’s the scorching sun in the summer, or the driving rain in the winter.  So we give them access to the lambing shed which they love.  To be honest, they are rather too fond of it at times and can make a real mess if they set up camp for too long.  While we like them to have access to their shelter, we don’t want them to spend all day in there.  So we’ve found if we fill up their hay feeders (which are next to the shelter) in the evenings rather than the mornings, this encourages them to go up the hill and forage during the day and only come down to the paddock in the evenings for the daily hay ceremony.

The daily hay ceremony is basically me bringing the little darlings hay every evening.  Usually the gang are still up on the hill somewhere, but it’s not long before they make an appearance led by Seline the flock leader.  They have an uncanny knack of knowing what time to come down for their tea.

I really enjoy the hay ceremony, mostly because I love the smell of hay.  Good quality meadow hay can be hard to come by and our little darlings are particularly fond of soft hay without tough stalks.  During the first few years here on our smallholding we struggled to find good meadow hay.  Our first year here we made our own but didn’t have enough to last all winter and ended up scrabbling around.

Our second year here we decided to buy in hay.  Unfortunately that turned out to be a bad decision as it was the year of the ‘beast from the east’.  That winter went on and on and on … there was hardly any hay to be had and we ended up buying in posh, dainty bags of haylage from the local agricultural store.  Our winter feed budget took a big hit that year.

So our third winter here we couldn’t believe our luck when we discovered that our Highland Cattle friends from up the road, Jim and Fiona, (https://www.highland.scot/)  had started supplying hay!  We feel very fortunate about this, it’s taken a big worry off our shoulders.

Every four weeks, Fiona comes by in her ‘hay-mobile’ with a delivery of hay.  Whilst tipping bales off the truck we have a good old catch up.  As smallholders on somewhat remote farms it’s good to chat to a likeminded soul and compare notes about this and that.  I always look forward to Fiona’s visits and I’m sure our sheep do as well!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can tell a lot about the health of an animal by what comes out the back end.  One of our woolly teddy bears, Witchy, has always produced dung more on the squishy side.  It sticks to the wool around her tail and is a magnet for flies.  During the summer we give her bottom plenty of haircuts to keep her feeling clean and fresh and prevent flystrike.

From what we’ve observed as smallholders, if young animals don’t get a good start in life, health problems will pop up down the line.  We’re certain that Witchy’s bottom problems are down to an imbalance of gut bacteria due to a period of stress she suffered as a lamb, (click here to read Witchy’s story).  We made a lot of mistakes when we started out ten years ago and unfortunately Witchy’s wobbly first couple of days was down to our inexperience as novice smallholders.

Fast forward to now and Witchy is a fully grown sheep and seven years young.  She’s the sweetest thing and we feel very lucky to have her in our flock.  She seems happy and content, but her digestive issues have always been a background worry.

Over the years we’ve tried her on probiotics and kaolin powder, but nothing has helped.  Witchy’s bottom has just carried on doing its thing and we’ve carried on trimming her and keeping her clean.

Now that she is getting older, we’ve noticed she doesn’t do as well in the winter.  Last year she lost condition and her lower eyelids were a bit pale suggesting a nutrient absorption issue.

This year, as winter approaches I thought I would try something different.  I had recently read about something called ‘cud transfaunation’, an old shepherding technique to help ruminants with digestive problems.  Just like us, sheep need a healthy gut microbiome in order to work properly.  Cud transfaunation basically means to take the cud and accompanying microbes from the mouth of a healthy sheep and pop it into the mouth of the sheep needing help.  (Obviously making sure it is swallowed).

I was pretty excited to do this I can tell you!  On Monday I brought Witchy into a pen along with Yaar and Yogi (the two doners).  My plan was to  swill the doners’ mouths out with warm water using a large syringe, capture the swill (and hopefully lots of microbes) in a bucket and then transfer it over to Witchy.  The reason I decided to have two doners was purely to increase my chances of capturing microbes.

From what I’ve read you can do either the ‘swill method’, or the ‘cud grabbing method’.  If you manage to grab a nice handful of cud there’s probably more chance of capturing lots of microbes however scooping out cud comes with risk of losing a  finger so I decided to go with plan A.  If plan A doesn’t work, then I’ll enlist the help of Adrian and try getting hold of some cud.  You put the cud in a bucket with a little warm water, break it up with a fork so it resembles sloppy soup and then give it to the sheep before it cools down.

The most important thing I had to remember was to make sure everything was sterile, and to keep the swilled out water at sheep temperature so the microbes didn’t die off before I got them into Witchy.

I lined up my equipment on a nearby wall so I had everything within reach.  I had with me:  a thermos flask filled with sheep-temperature water (38.3 – 39.9’c) to do the mouth swilling, a sterile bucket to capture the swill and a large syringe to draw up the swill from the bucket and transfer into Witchy’s mouth.

I didn’t get much swill but hopefully enough.  It looked slightly green and had a bit of a slimy look to it.  I’m hoping it contained plenty of bacteria.  Giving it to Witchy was easy, I popped it into her mouth using a large syringe and she swallowed it straight away, phew!

The trickiest part was to make sure I kept Yaar and Yogi’s heads down as I swilled their mouths out to stop them from swallowing the warm water.  It was also quite hard keeping the bucket under their chins whilst I was doing this.  They were very keen to stick their noses in the bucket, they love buckets, especially green calf buckets.

Hopefully I captured enough microbes and they’re setting up home in Witchy’s gut and she’ll have an easier winter.  However the proof will be in the poop … I will keep you updated with how she goes.

 

 

Every so often it’s time to do some dung shifting here on the smallholding.  Despite having a relatively small flock of 19, our woolly lawn mowers produce an impressive amount of manure.

During the winter when the grass isn’t very tasty, the teddy bears spend a lot of time in the paddock where we have a couple of hay feeders set up.  Here is where the action happens, our woolly friends get busy converting hay into dung from November through to April.

The amount of dung around the feeders quickly builds up, so every autumn we roll back our sleeves and get to work removing the dung carpet.  This is hefty work and often involves getting on our hands and knees and peeling it up from the ground.  Embedded in the dung are layers of hay which hold things together to form a sort of cake.  It’s very satisfying work peeling back large clods.  Sometimes we get a big one that is too heavy to lift.  We heft the clods into the trailer and then tow it to the muck heap where we shovel it out.  Then back we go to the paddock for more.

After a week or so of peeling, shovelling and dumping, our dung heap is vastly bigger and the ground around the hay feeders looks lovely again; back to its original state, a good deal lower and much less squelchy.

During the winter we’ll use this dung to mulch our veggie patch.  I dropped some off at our neighbours for their flowerbeds and Adrian left me a big present for the polytunnel.  All in all, a good week’s work!

 

 

 

 

This summer’s been a bit funny weatherwise, after a hot and dry May and June (so dry that we ran out of water at one point), the heavens opened and it’s been dreich ever since.  One thing is certain though, rain or shine there are always plenty of flies buzzing around.

This part of Galloway is mostly grazed by livestock and there’s very little crop spraying going on.  As a result the insects are thriving and the swallows who come here to nest every summer have plenty to feed on.  So a healthy population of flies isn’t a bad thing.  However, having sheep, we do have to be on the lookout for flystrike.

Flystrike is a potentially fatal condition which can occur when a female blowfly (green bottle) decides to lay her eggs on a sheep.  The eggs result in maggots which on hatching, wriggle around and start to feed on the sheep. Death occurs within a few days unless the condition is spotted.  The blowfly is usually attracted to soiled areas around the bottom, but she’s not particularly fussy and often lays her eggs between the shoulder blades or in any convenient nook or cranny.

Most sheep are protected from blowfly attacks through the use of sprays which work as a deterrent.  Our little flock however is organic so this means we don’t spray them, instead we bring them in to check regularly and are always on the lookout for ‘the signs’.  ‘The signs’ meaning how the sheep behaves when she’s been struck by a blowfly.  These start off very subtle and can be easily missed, it’s usually a slight change in demeanour, a look in the eye, an odd sitting position.  It then progresses as the irritation builds and the sheep will try to scratch the affected area.  She’ll not usually be able to reach and this will cause her distress.  As the days pass she’ll show signs of depression, hang her head, stand in a corner, lie down and eventually give up.

We’re continually on the lookout for the signs, and three of our little lot are particularly prone so they get more checks than usual.  Today the three musketeers were due their fortnightly check ups.

I set off after breakfast with my bucket containing: shears, maggot oil, cotton wool pads, Protego powder spray, nitrile gloves, halter and sheep nuts.  The dogs came with me as they like to hang around with the flock whilst clicking into guard mode.  George and Elliot are both Sheep Guardian dogs, George is a Hellenic Shepherd and Elliot is a Turkish Anatolian and they love nothing better than to mooch around with the flock whilst keeping a watchful eye out for bears and wolves, (the Scottish equivalent of).

I found the sheep half way up a hill so  I parked up and set up ‘camp’.  I dragged some hurdles over and built my treatment pen, I laid out my equipment on the back of the quadbike.  Then off I went to get my first sheep.

Something I’ve learned to do since having sheep is teach them their names and have them come over to me when called, individually.  This isn’t just a fancy party trick, it means I can do sheep work quickly and with minimum running around.  Unfortunately this convenient little trick is only possible when I’m on my own with the gang with no one else is present, especially not the vet.

So I brought in Ynca, then Yssi, then Yogi.  All three have a funny condition on their bottoms where the wool stays damp in the area just below the tail.  This can cause little patches of bacteria to form under the wool which unless I trim regularly, can lead to small infections occurring.  This can then create puss, which would be a magnet to the blowfly so it’s important to keep them clean and trimmed.

Ynca, Yssi and Yogi are very tame, but they draw the line at having their bottoms trimmed so I halter them up and tether them so they can’t run around.  I then straddle them so I’m looking down at their bottoms, and off I go with my trimming shears.  Once I’ve trimmed the wool down to a ‘number 1’, I spray it with a powder spray which dries everything out and smells lovely too.  (Protego powder spray is totally brilliant!)

After and hour or so, I finished bottom trimming and was ready for a cup of tea, scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam.  The three girls went back to join their pals while I whizzed down the hill followed by the dogs.  Adrian was conveniently between meetings at work and had already put the kettle on ready for a welcome brew.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since last week’s story about shearing, we still had one sheep left to shear – sweet Vera.  Vera has photo-sensitive skin and doesn’t respond well to the close shave given by electric blades.  Last year I hand-clipped her and she had a much more comfortable summer as a result.  Giving Vera a haircut is now part of my summer jobs.

Hand-clipping Vera serves two purposes; leaving a half centimetre or so covering of wool on her gives her some protection from the sun (which triggers her allergy).  And using hand shears is less aggravating on her skin.

So I chose the one day in the week where thundery showers weren’t forecast and off I went to find Vera with my bucket of bits.  In my bucket I had:  Jakoti hand shears, hoof clippers, Protego wound spray, bailer twine, anti-blister rowing glove for my right hand, plasters, halter, midge spray, midge net, water, a  handful of sheep nuts.

Having located the flock, Vera was easy to spot, she was the only sheep who still resembled a roly-poly teddy bear.

I take my time shearing, better said, I have no choice but to take my time shearing because I’m not an expert by a very long shot.   Although Adrian and I once learnt to shear the standard ‘Wool Board way’ where you do 16 specific moves, moving at one with the sheep, removing the wool deftly and gently whilst keeping the sheep comfortable at all times, we realised it was a little beyond us.  We would need to practise shearing more than just once a year to get good enough to do it safely and confidently.  This is why we book in a pro shearer like Guy.

Last year in a moment of madness I decided to not only shear Vera, but quite a few others too.  I found the ‘standing up method’ to be quite successful and not too painful on my back.  The downside of this approach is that it takes a long time per sheep because there is more room for error so you have to go slowly.  The sheep isn’t ‘stretched out’ as it is when you shear the standard way so you have to make sure you don’t snip little wrinkles of skin.  This is particularly the case where there are joins, for example where the legs join the torso, where the jaw joins the neck or the tail joins the bottom.

So, having popped Vera into a pen, I started at the tail end of her back, made an opening in the wool and snipped in lines along one side of her back.  Then I did the other side which was a little more tricky because I had to reach over her and position my hand at a different angle.  All the while I snipped, my left hand guided the way, feeling the terrain.   Although I have a pretty good map in my head of the anatomy of a sheep, there’s nothing quite like having a pair of blades in your hand to jolt you into a different state of mind.  It’s a bit like reading all the theory about lambing, and then actually doing it.

I had started off putting a halter on Vera and tying a tether to the hurdle so she wouldn’t move around, but after a while I removed it as she seemed quite content chewing the cud and standing in the one position.  This made life easier for both of us as I could move her round to snip her wool at different angles, and Vera didn’t feel constrained by the halter and tether.

After about an hour and half I had removed three quarters of her wool but felt the need for a cup of tea.  I let Vera out to graze and went back to the house for some tea and toast.  Adrian emerged from his study like a small boy at the sound of the kettle and the ping of the toaster.  We chatted about Vera, the weather and Adrian’s work, and then back I went to finish off Vera before the rain started.

I’ll be honest, despite the cup of tea, I was pretty tired at this point.  I’d had an intense couple of weeks doing other physical jobs around the farm.  In between this I had an important trip to Edinburgh where I was dancing in a show (my other life).  All in all, I was looking forward to a day off.  But with the weather being so showery I had to grab the opportunity to get Vera finished before the next downpour.

When I got back to the fields the sheep were still where I had left them fortunately.  This meant I didn’t have to run around with hurdles setting up a new pen.  I led Vera back into her little pen and spent another hour or so finishing her off.

I did the rest of her face and neck, the remaining side of her flanks and belly.  Now I was on the home straight, all I had left to do was her backside up to the udders.  As I straddled her facing her tail so I could get a good angle, Vera started to get twitchy.  The straddle method is my standard approach for dagging sheep and admittedly, normally I have Adrian helping me to make sure the sheep doesn’t wriggle around too much.  In the absence of Adrian (aka my combi clamp), I opted for Plan B, I tethered her up and sprinkled some sheep nuts on the ground.  This worked a treat and I made a pretty good job of trimming Vera’s bottom even though I say so myself.

With Vera shorn at last, I opened the hurdles.  Vera skipped out with her new hair do and re-joined the flock who had put up the ‘do not disturb’ sign for some serious grazing. Meanwhile, I hobbled out and sat on a rock for a while listening to the sound of sheep eating which is weirdly hypnotic and quite pleasant.