With the onset of winter and frosty days I’ve been busy wrapping up my gardening business for another year. This means I get a lovely rest, oh, sorry, that was a Freudian slip, I meant so say, this means I will have more time to start the Big Winter Feed Ritual for our woolly friends, in other words, keeping the sheep feeders full of hay.
The grass is low nutrient and provides little nourishment for the sheep during the winter. The hay meanwhile was cut at its peak in July, and contains plenty of flowers, it smells of summer and the wafts remind me of Swiss mountain villages from when I was a small girl. The sheep love it and can get quite overexcited each morning when they see the bales coming their way. They actually make filling the feeders quite challenging as they pile in like a bunch of frenzied five year olds on Christmas morning.
rolling the rug
Winter also means I get to dive headlong into rug production. Making rugs is very time consuming, during the summer one rug can take two weeks or more to put together as I’m running about doing other things. In the winter my days are spent between the hay shed and my girl shed. My girl shed is fabulous, I love it! It’s actually the summer house and just a stone’s throw from the house and the kettle. It has power which means it’s toasty and warm and more to the point, makes the felting process actually possible.
In the last week I’ve made two rugs; “the Molly rug” and “the Ursi rug”. The Molly rug (see here) was made using fleece from our friends’ flock. They have a friendly family of Mules, Herdwicks and Texels. The Molly rug was made using the long fluffy locks from one of their Mules, (the offspring of a hill breed mother and lowland breed father). I love the way the Molly rug has come out, it is creamy-white with long, powder puff locks and just invites you to cuddle into it.
sheep peek at Molly rug
The second rug I made using fleece from our own flock, from Ursi actually, (see here). Ursi is a big gorgeous girl, naturally friendly, always up for a back rub and a chat. Ursi has a pale grey fleece with beige and cream running through it. I made a big rug from it as Ursi is a big girl with lots of fleece. I’m very happy with the way the rug has turned out, it’s soft and bouncy and the colours are just beautiful, just like Ursi herself.
OK, so I was out and about as usual around 8:30pm on a cold November evening when I saw the human and two dogs approaching. I wasn’t that worried as I’d seen them before and they always keep a respectful distance. However, this time, the human came over, crouched down and then PICKED ME UP!
“What’s going on?” I thought. Next thing, I’d been whisked to a place I’d never been before full of straight lines and strange smells. That said, it was lovely and warm and, truth be told, I was feeling a bit cold. I suppose that’s why I hadn’t curled up into my protective ball.
Anyway, there I was perched on the humans hands listening to the humans babbling on about something. I was a bit peckish and I was offered some food, but I was too distracted to eat anything. In fact, I was quite enjoying sitting in those warm, toasty hands. I even flattened myself out a bit so I could get maximum warmth into my feet and tummy. It was lovely.
Next thing, I’m being put into a dog crate. Well, I’m not having that I thought to myself. I waited a few moments and then sized up the bars. I could squeeze through them, I thought, so that’s just what I did. Only, I got halfway through and got stuck. Luckily, the humans cut me free and I was back in those warm toasty hands. Lovely.
I was soon quite warmed up and now the humans, having learned from their mistake, put me in a nice big box with lots of fresh hay, food and water. I scoffed the food and settled down for a siesta. I was a bit tired as it has been quite cold of late and so food has been a bit scarce. A full tummy was just great and I felt really sleepy.
Next day, I was moved into a larger area. It’s plastic so I don’t think I’ll be getting out in a hurry, but I now have my own little bedroom and a steady supply of food and water. I get cleaned out every day which can a bit of a pain, but there’s nothing quite like snuggling back into clean fresh hay.
It’s a lot warmer than outside, so, you know, though I don’t have as much space as I’d like, I’m quite happy really. Plus I’ve put on nearly 100g in just three days so that’s pretty good too.
It is our custom to take the dogs out in the evening to give them a chance to pee before bedtime. Often, we have been lucky enough to see a hedgehog. Given they are having a hard time of it, we feel quite privileged.
The other night, I spotted one in front of me and stooped for a look. I realised it looked quite small. Hedgehogs need to weigh at least 600g or they cannot hibernate. If they can’t hibernate, then they can’t make it through the winter. I know this because many years ago, I used to overwinter underweight hedgehogs quite often. At that time I had close links with Tiggywinkles wildlife hospital which was, back then, a set of sheds in a suburban back garden. These days it’s a fully equipped purpose built wildlife hospital (Tiggywinkles).
Anyway, I scooped up this little critter and took it back inside. Sure enough, it weighed only 300g. It would need warm winter quarters. On the positive side, it looked pretty healthy and there were no ticks or fleas that I could see.
temporary hedgehog quarters
The problem was, we didn’t have anything suitable to keep it in. All the rabbit hutches were long gone. While I sat warming up the wee hedgehog, Nicole scoured the house for a suitable container. Eventually, one of us remembered we had set aside a large cardboard box. Handing the wee hedgehog over to Nicole, I set about transforming the box into a temporary hedgehog home.
Making plenty of airholes and also ensuring it was escape proof, we put in dog food, water and plenty of hay. In my experience, hedgehogs make Harry Houdini look like a beginner when it comes to escaping.
Next day, we set off to get a better home. The box was fine but it would only last one, maybe two nights before it gave in to the relentless soaking from hedgehog wee. First stop was the only pet warehouse in the area, a mere 45 minutes drive. It had rabbit hutches, but these days they are multi level house shaped obstacle courses. I just wanted something with an area for a nest and and area for night time wandering. The only one they had which might have been OK wasn’t in stock.
So, next followed a trip to a country store and then a garden centre. Plenty of pet homes, but nothing suitable at all. This was not going well. So, I did what I maybe should have done in the first place, I sat in the car, got my phone out and went onto a hedgehog rescue site to look for ideas. Well, rabbit hutches are out, the new des res for an overwintering hedgehog is a large, deep plastic box. Thank you Hedgehog Rescue for that idea. I would never have thought of that.
Googling plastic boxes pointed me to Homebase where, after a long and gently dispiriting search (Homebase is not what it used to be) I found a massive plastic box and a rather attractive green bucket that would make the perfect nest box. I nearly did a little skip, but being from Edinburgh, I didn’t.
In fact we jumped in the car and headed speedily home to set it all up. And it has worked perfectly, a good nest box, enough room for food and water and space to do a bit of roaming. And it’s not far from a radiator for warmth.
Now it’s all about keeping it clean and providing plenty of food and water.
hedgehog accommodation - a huge plastic box
After the morning clean up
Oh, and if you are wondering why there’s no photo of the wee hedgehog, it’s because it has had a stressful enough experience already so we are trying to leave it in peace as much as possible. We’ll probably take a picture when we next weigh it in a week or so’s time.
Many things have changed for us since upping sticks to run a smallholding and becoming ‘country mice’ but one of the biggest changes has been our diet. Now don’t get me wrong, as ‘town mice’ we were never ones for stuffing ourselves with crisps and takeaways, but nor were we food evangelicals brandishing this or that diet. We just liked to use fresh and organic ingredients wherever possible.
Now though, since living “the good life”, we’re forever foraging in the garden picking this and that to pop in the pot, it’s one of the best things about being a country mouse, having an extension to the larder just a snuffle from the back door.
So while removing slugs from various nooks and crannies in carrots and picking caterpillars off kale isn’t my favourite activity, I remind myself that fresh veggies taste a lot better, and not only that, they make you feel better too what with all that freshness zooming straight into your bones.
This brings me onto a subject I find fascinating; the medicinal properties plants. It’s probably an age thing (a weird thing’s happened as I’ve got older, I’ve become a bit paranoid about putting chemicals in my body, beauty wise and diet wise)! This, combined with living in the sticks, which makes nipping to the chemist quite a chore has resulted in me avidly growing plants specifically for their medicinal purposes. Truth be told I also I just love it! In a witchy kind of a way, I feel like Sabrina as I sprinkle my magic seeds into the soil and watch them transform, tadaaa!
This year I’ve grown Echinacea and Chamomile to make tea with if one of us feels under the weather. Or I’ll forage for Herb Robert which makes a tasty tea too and is reputedly good for all manner of things even if does smell a bit funny. I brew up Rosemary, let it sit for a while, strain, then rinse my hair with it for natural shine. This year I’ve been mushing up raspberries and making a tasty face mask. Raspberries have natural anti inflammatory properties and feel very soothing on the skin.
I’ve also started using natural products to help our hens. In our ‘previous lives’ we’d buy the standard worming meds for our chickens. (Hens can be quite prone to intestinal worms so you need to keep an eye out for these pesky blighters). These days we’ve found a combination of natural remedies do the job and means you can continue to eat your girls’ eggs as there are no nasty chemicals in their systems. I always have pumpkin seeds in the house, I’ll crush them up and mix a little in with their food every couple of weeks or so. I also give them crushed garlic periodically which is brilliant for preventing intestinal worms, and sometimes I’ll sprinkle a small amount of chilli into their food as if there are any worms lurking where they shouldn’t be, they’ll come shooting straight out. And finally, I add cider vinegar (home-made of course, what else?!) to their water which helps their digestive systems and gives them a vitamin boost.
So with it being Halloween don’t throw your pumpkin seeds out if you keep chickens, add some crushed seeds to your hens’ feed, they will thank you for it. Happy Halloween!
Every so often sheep get into pickles. In fact, they’re probably more prone to pickles than other farm animals.
We didn’t know this until we became the proud owners of our first three sheep, Blumes, Thelma and Louise, and then the comments started; “where there’s livestock there’s deadstock”, or “did you know that sheep spend their entire lives looking for ways to die”.
“Oh” we thought disappointedly, “why are people not happy for us, proud new sheep parents? Why the doom and gloom? What can be so hard about keeping sheep? Surely you just put them in a field and keep an eye on them from time to time?” However, as with most (if not all!) our experiences in our smallholder life, we were soon to find out the hard way.
Sarka
Our first lesson came to us about 18 months in to keeping sheep. By this time we had 12 woolly friends grazing away happily in our fields. It was late summer and we were moving the flock into a different field. As the sheep gambolled into the new paddock to investigate the fresh grass we noticed one of the flock, Sarka, was acting out of character. She seemed spooked and jittery. We watched her for a short while and decided we would need to pen her up and inspect her as something was clearly wrong. So we penned her up and had a good look. It didn’t take us long to discover to our horror and dismay, that under her tail were hundreds of wriggling and writhing white maggots. “Flystrike” we both said in unison! Closely followed by an expletive or two. It was truly a horrific sight. It was also something we’d been warned about and we had sprayed our flock earlier in the summer to prevent. We rushed indoors to get the bottle of “Crovect” which kills maggots and thankfully Sarka was soon grazing away happily, cleaned up and at peace with the world again.
The following year we had three more incidents of flystrike and fortunately we caught each attack in time. If left for too long the sheep will quickly “fulfil their life’s ambition”. And “too long” can be only a matter of days – two or three after the maggots hatch and start burrowing into the flesh. Even using the recommended sprays and checking sheep for the tell-tale signs (agitation, foot stamping etc) it is still possible for a blowfly to slip through the net and lay her eggs in the wool.
“Hmm” we thought, “perhaps these people have a point, sheep are not the easy maintenance creatures we thought they were.” By now we saw ourselves saying goodbye to ever going on holiday again.
But fate was kind to us and dealt us a lucky hand. Two years into owning sheep and having outgrown our Somerset smallholding we decided to up sticks and move to South West Scotland to a much bigger place. This is where we live now, with many more woolly friends than we started out with.
The lucky hand of fate came in the form of hill breezes. Blowfly like to lurk in warm and sheltered hedgerows. They cannot abide a hill breeze, least of all a Scottish one which has a freshness about it, and they don’t care much for dry stone walls either which have no lurking potential, and we have plenty of drystone walls here, not a hedgerow in sight. The result being that life here is blissful, chilly Scottish breezes are absolutely fine as far as I’m concerned and flystrike has happily become a thing of the past. We don’t even spray our sheep now which is great because we don’t like chemicals.
But don’t rest on your laurels I hear you say and you would be right. We were soon to be presented with another interesting learning experience.
Sky
One summer’s afternoon, during our first year on our Scottish smallholding I was doing the afternoon sheep check which involves counting them and scanning the flock for any unusual behaviour. It also involves mooching around the flock giving them pats and head scratches. So there I was happily wandering amongst the woollies when I noticed Sky looking rather strange. She was lying down, but something seemed wrong. On closer inspection I could see she was stuck. “Oh no!” I said out loud, “she’s cast!” I wondered how long she had been there as I turned her over and helped her to her feet. Sky seemed none the worse for wear but her wool was quite flattened on the side she’d been lying on so I thought she must have been there a good while. Sky was lucky I’d found her when I did as a cast sheep soon becomes prey for crows. I didn’t like to think too much about that, but it was a sobering thought and my heart was heavy as I trudged back to the house to tell Adrian what had happened.
Luckily the incident remained a one off and we found no more sheep lying on their backs with their legs in the air, with the exception of once, close to lambing time, we found Star, heavily pregnant stuck on her side and unable to get up, but that was understandable as she was huge at the time. Still, it was just as worrying as the first time round, and so we added “cast sheep” to our string of worry beads.
Two years on, and we had no more cast sheep. “Yippee” we thought, but we knew by this time not to tempt fate and so kept our eyes peeled just in case.
And just as well as Adrian was soon to find out.
One spring morning earlier this year, Adrian was out fixing one of our numerous dry stone walls. See “Stone Dykes” This particular wall was a boundary wall so it was important to get it fixed. There was lots of to-ing and fro-ing on the quad bike with rocks and tools etc, and the way up to the wall was through the sheep. On one of these journeys Adrian happened to spot Yarr, looking a bit funny. Yarr is one of our boys, he’s a friendly chap always happy to come up for a chat and a pat. Adrian instinctively knew there was something odd about him, he was lying on his side in amongst the other sheep, but seemed to be in an unnatural position. He whizzed over, and was shocked to realise that Yarr was stuck, he was lying there helpless, his legs in the air like a beetle. Adrian quickly turned him over and rubbed his legs to bring back his circulation. Yarr seemed to be not quite himself for the rest of the day, however by the next day he was fine again. “Phew” we thought what a stroke of luck that the wall had needed fixing and Adrian had found him when he did. We check on the sheep three times a day but Adrian had found Yarr in between checks so poor Yarr would have been stuck a while longer if it hadn’t been for the work on the wall.
We thought no more about it, until two days later to be precise, Adrian was once more whizzing up on the quad to continue work on the wall when he spotted Yarr, on his back again! They say bad luck happens in threes so while helping Yarr back on his feet Adrian started wondering what else was going to go wrong. Meanwhile I was wondering what was wrong with Yarr and why he kept ending up on his back.
Yarr with shaggy fleece
It occurred to us later that day over a cup of tea that the sheep had very shaggy fleeces, it was early May and they had a full year’s worth of wool on their backs. They were due to be sheared later that month so we hoped that once relieved of their heavy fleeces Yarr, or indeed any other sheep wouldn’t end up on their backs for a wee while at least!
And this proved to be so, without their heavy fleeces, Yarr and the rest of the gang stayed out of pickles and we were relieved.
Until last weekend that is. I was doing the evening check, the flock was grazing contentedly in the lower hay field and all was well with the world. I counted 20 sheep, all were present and correct. I then noticed Yarr looked a bit strange. “Oh no” I thought, “not again!” I ran over to him as he was very still, he looked like a ragdoll, like sheep who has given up. On nearing him I was hugely relieved to find him alive, but yes, once again, cast. I righted him and rubbed his flanks. He stood for a while and did a pee. I wondered if he’d been holding it in as it seemed to go on for ever. After a few minutes he shook himself and wandered off to graze with the others.
We hope Yarr has had his run of bad luck now. He’s been found on his back three times, but on the other hand you could say Yarr was lucky, lucky to be found in time and not left to fulfil his life’s ambition.
A couple of years back we built a vegetable patch. It’s six areas with a path connecting them all. It took a while to build and all the slabs were laid on a dry mix concrete base. In order to keep the weeds down, a dry mix was also brushed into the gaps between each slab. The idea is that it goes naturally, a bit like a bag of cement left in the shed. The damp seeps in and it sets.
weed free path
The problem is, it never did set. In fact, it just kind of turned into a sandy base into which the weeds moved with relish. So, if at first you don’t succeed and all that. In the odd nice day we have had recently, I have pulled out all the weeds and dug out the sand. All the gaps were then filled with a wet mix of concrete. Hopefully, that will set good and hard and keep the weeds out.
Of course, the weeds are invading the vegetable areas at quite a pace, but well that’s all part and parcel of growing veggies.
Happily I can report that since the vet’s visit in July, Vera’s been gradually getting better. Although the vet hadn’t been 100% certain what had caused Vera’s “itchies”; in the days following his visit it was looking more and more like his suggestion of photosensitivity.
We scanned our pastures for any suspect plants. The main culprits are umbelliferous plants and St John’s Wart. I thought we had none of these where the sheep graze, as a horticulturalist I am always on the look out for “dodgy plants”. But to my horror I found some Wood Angelica lurking in a dingy corner and my heart sank.
Several broken spades later I had removed about 25 of the villains. Phew I thought, that should stop any further outbreaks. I then whizzed off to the nearest chemist for some Sudocrem. I had done some research and checked with the vet and Sudocrem would be the perfect ointment to aid Vera’s recovery once the affect of the steroids started to wear off.
And so began “The Cream Ritual”. At first Vera was a bit suspicious of me brandishing my pot. However, a few short days after being totally unimpressed with “the funny smelling white stuff”, she started to seek me out and wait patiently as I smoothed it on. Pretty soon Vera made it plain she loved The Cream Ritual. As soon as I took the lid off the pot, her neck grew several inches longer and she started to lick the air whilst nodding her head up and down, all tell-tale signs of a happy sheep.
As the days went by, Vera, on spotting me, came trotting up and leaned into me as I smoothed the cream on. Her favourite spots were under her armpits. She began to lift her back legs up to let me get right in. The Cream Ritual became a really enjoyable part of both of our days.
Now, nearly 3 months later with the days shortening and no more scorchy days, Vera is almost completely better. I’ve stopped applying Sudocrem much to Vera’s disappointment so I’ve been giving her plenty of head scratches and chest rubs to compensate. I also check her skin on a daily basis just to make sure she’s OK. Although it’s autumn there are still a few warm days and too much sunshine can cause a flare up. So, it’s slow progress, but Vera’s getting there.
We just hope that she hasn’t become photosensitised indefinitely but only time will tell. For the moment, she is OK and that is what matters.
With autumn fast approaching and soggier weather, access to the lambing shed (now known as “general sheep/hen/shelter/meeting room”) in the orchard had become wet and slippery.
Getting to the orchard is a bit of an expedition for the sheep as it’s quite literally off their “beaten track”. We had to show them the way at first, but they soon learnt how to do it and made it part of their routine.
To get to the orchard they have to come down a slope from the main field, trot along a rock lined path and then pop up through a gate on the other side where, voila, their shed is. This is all fine in dry weather but it’s not been that dry lately so access has become somewhat challenging. During the summer the hens would line up along the path dust bathing, not now!
sheep trying out new path
Sheep are sensible creatures and instinctively steer clear of boggy ground. It is a sheep’s worst nightmare to become stuck in the mud, their small hooves, spindly legs and barrel shaped bodies aren’t a good design for navigating marshy terrain so they’ll avoid it at all costs. Unfortunately this can be quite hard in South West Scotland as it rains a lot and it’s often muddy.
The path to the lambing shed was not only becoming churned up, it was also getting really slippery due to it being on a slope. So from one day to the next the sheep pretty much stopped using it. This was unfortunate as during this time it wasn’t just raining, it was proverbially “chucking it down”.
Now sheep are hardy animals and will put up with whatever the weather throws at them, however, keeping sheep for a number of years and observing their ways has taught us that even they have their limits. In prolonged rain they’ll actively seek out shelter whether that be huddling under a tree, standing in a long line by a dry stone wall or, stretching out in a custom built field shelter. I know where I would rather be.
So, we decided the path leading to the shed, (now resembling a slalom slope) had to be made usable again if we wanted happy sheep.
I say “we” but it was all Adrian really. I just helped bring some wooden poles down to make the edges. Adrian was the one who brought trailer loads of “scalpings” down and spent hours shovelling it all down to create a walkway.
Adrian hard at work
Once it was all done, we sat back and admired it and then walked up and down it a few times to try it out. We were really pleased; it had a deep layer of scalpings all held in place by planks of wood to stop it slipping away. It was not only functional, it looked great!
Now to wait for the sheep to reacquaint themselves with it. After about half an hour, (truth is we couldn’t wait) we went and got them. We brought Peaches the matriarch over first. If she approved, she would lead the others down.
Peaches is a sensible girl, utterly reliable and a great matriarch. Sure enough, apart from an investigative, bordering on suspicious, sniff prior to hoof placement, she was soon walking along the path, bringing to mind images of a certain wee girl from a certain well known book/film.
By now the others’ interest was piqued and soon all 19 remaining sheep were piling onto the path like a bunch of children playing musical chairs when the music stops.
Which was very amusing to watch! And led to half the flock veering off and creating a parallel path. Most of them got the idea however and after a few days they started to include a trip along the new path to the orchard on their daily rounds. They particularly enjoy visiting the orchard at the moment what with there being lots of apples lying around just waiting to be gobbled up.
Being autumn, it’s approaching tupping time when the ewes are put to the tup. The farm next door has been to market and got themselves a pair of splendid young tups and put them in the field next door. They seem like pretty calm chaps, but they are in a field out of which there have been a few successful escape attempts in the recent past.
At first, we did nothing as we had sorted out the decrepit gate and our neighbours had plugged the gap. However, it all changed when they spotted each other. Our sheep like to pop down to the lambing paddock each day to check for apples. It’s also where one of their field shelters is sited. On their way down, they were spotted by the boys next door who, in their amazement, stood their like teenage boys transfixed. Of course, our girls totally ignored them.
However, a couple of days later, the girls decided that they had made their point and were spotted attempting to smooch through the metal bars of the gate between the fields. Boys on one side and two or three of our ewes on the other with noses pressed up right against each other.
“Hmm”, we thought, maybe we had better do something. Aside from not really wanting to go through the stress of lambing next year, we also have a couple of hogs that are tiny compared to these boys and don’t want them getting pregnant or even hurt in the process.
So, we have moved our sheep to the fields away from contact where the are now separated by a field and some stone dykes. Not that that’s stopped them gazing wistfully at each other from hilltop positions on both sides.
Every three months we give our sheep a general MOT, this means checking their teats, checking (and trimming if necessary) their hooves, trimming the wool around their bottoms and trimming the wool around their eyes. Out of all these jobs, probably the most important is trimming the wool around their bottoms (known as “dagging” in the sheep world). Dirty wool can attract flies which can lead to flystrike which is a killer.
I should mention at this point, back in the olden days when we first had sheep, the days leading up to doing the MOTs would cause me palpitations, (not Adrian, he is the laid back sort rather irritatingly).
Just getting our sheep into a pen, let alone doing all the necessary tasks could be fraught with disaster. In fact it was due to many mishaps; sheep refusing to be penned up, us chasing sheep around the paddock, our inability to “tip” them once we had got them into a pen, us being stood on by sheep, us ending up flattened by a sheep, the list goes on … but anyway, all these set backs did have a positive outcome, it made us quickly rethink our sheep handling strategy.
One frosty day whilst nursing a squashed toe after being stood on yet again by one of our larger ladies I had a rare light bulb moment. I remembered how our mentors were always leading their sheep around with halters. They are great show enthusiasts so had trained their flock to be halter trained. I wondered if we could do the same and so make life easier for ourselves when it came to doing their health checks. We weren’t interested in showing our sheep, but the idea of a docile sheep trotting after us on a lead rope seemed very appealing not to mention practical. I particularly like the idea of not having to “tip” a sheep again (it’s nigh on impossible unless you have cracked the technique and I clearly hadn’t). The vision I had in my mind was to be able to work on the sheep whilst it was standing up, tied to a railing by a lead rope rather like a horse.
A training plan started to form in my mind based on a mixture of Cesar Millan’s and Monty Robert’s “whispering” approach. I would use psychology, patience and bribery in the form of sheep nuts.
I ordered some halters and as soon as they arrived I got to work. I set up a largish pen in the paddock with a smaller pen inside, filled my pockets with nuts and off I went.
It took me a while (about a week) to complete “phase one” for the sheep to start coming to me and letting me put the halter on. The next thing I did was gently walk them around the pen (phase two). If they got spooked I let go of the halter. If they didn’t I led them into the smaller pen. Several weeks of training later and little by little I managed to get each and every one of our sheep (nine to be precise) used to the halter, and eventually I was able to tie them up in the smaller pen and actually do some work on them, hurrah!! It was a huge turning point for us in our sheep management because now our sheep were “tame”, they trusted us and so we felt a huge weight had been taken off our shoulders.
If we needed the vet we no longer worried about having to chase a sheep around just to get it into a pen, if we needed to move them to another field we simply haltered them or better still, called them and they followed us. Rounding up our flock became a pleasant and fun thing to do instead of anxiety provoking and as a result our flock became relaxed whenever we were around them. We were happier and so were our flock. And the best part of the “training” programme was that we got to know our sheep as individuals with unique personalities. We noticed that Sparkle makes funny grunty noises when happy or excited, we noticed that Selene has a particular tickle spot on her back, we noticed that Sarka was very shy and timid and needed extra time to learn to trust us. We learned so much that winter, and mostly (I personally) learnt the art of patience (something hubs claims he’s yet to witness).
So, fast forward a few years, and after doing hundreds of MOTs, the three monthly ritual is a doddle compared to those early days. That said, it is physically hard work and very time consuming. Admittedly not helped by us expanding our flock somewhat.
So sometimes I have a little dream about owning a “Combi clamp”. This is a gentle device for restraining a sheep and allows you to all those things that you need to do to: dose, inject, trim hooves, dag etc. Although our sheep are easy as pie to handle, there is one thing I still struggle with; inspecting the back hooves. I can trim bottoms till the cows come home, I can get stuck into the front hooves, but for some reason the back hooves are really tricky to do. The sheep go into full on reflex mode when I so much as go near those hooves, to say they are not keen would be an understatement, they make it plain that it is the most irritating thing in the world. I usually end up half underneath the sheep, resting their knee on my thigh and doing whatever needs doing between the hoof flicking out randomly and usually narrowly missing my nose. As the sheep is only loosely restrained by the halter it can start to hop around a bit or worse, pull back towards me at which point I end up with a sheep’s bottom on top of my head. Not a great experience all round and quite frustrating for both of us. I’ve usually resorted to filling a bucket with carrots and letting them munch away while I quickly work on them but this is not ideal as I don’t always have carrots and I’m not keen on using treats as it makes the sheep hyper and they come to expect it and so become anxious, you have to be careful with how you use treats.
Sadly Combi clamps are over £3,000 so that dream will remain a dream for the time being, meanwhile Adrian has offered to be my Combi clamp. He makes a good one, he has a patented technique for keeping a sheep in exactly the right position while I can do their back hooves with ease. It is almost a blissful experience for all of us. Part of the “Adrian technique” is to hug the sheep (so “clamping” it) whilst giving it a back scratch in just the right spot. At this point they go into a kind of trance and start to gaze off into the distance, stretching their necks out and licking their lips. I am happy because I can work on their hooves and no longer risk being decapitated, but Adrian is probably happiest of all because he hasn’t got to fork out £3,000 for a Combi clamp, well not for the moment anyway!
