A1A South

When I got home this afternoon, I immediately opened the gate to let the sheep out to pasture and hay. (I keep them close to the barn in the daytime while I’m gone for their safety.) One ewe didn’t want to leave the barn. I waited, gate open, but she didn’t move. I closed the gate. She then started to get nervous, moved as close as she could to the other sheep, and started calling them.

I went back out and opened the gate. She didn’t want to leave. I chased her out with the others anyway.

She was waiting at the gate with the others to come back to the barn at dusk. I put out the feed, and opened the gate. She declined food, and went into another pasture, shortly followed by another ewe. I closed the gate, went inside to cook, then back outside to check for lambs. The other ewe wanted back in with the other sheep, and I could hear the high-pitched cries of two newborn lambs calling “Maaaaaaa Maaaaaaa”. A quick examination revealed two healthy-appearing male lambs. I carried hay and grain out to momma sheep who is still more interested in her lambs than her food. (An older mother would be more interested in her food than her lambs!) I’m a little worried about the lambs finding the spigots before becoming chilled but, as SwampMan says, that ain’t my job. Momma sheep needs to worry ’bout THAT.

*sigh* We still don’t have any grass to speak of thanks to the unseasonably cold weather. The sheep should be up to their tails in grass and clover but nooooooo. I’m feeding lots and lots of hay. Lots of stinging nettles, though, damnit. And a good shot of a fence that needs replacing over spring break and the neighbors’ places on the other side of the horse pasture.

My former daughter in law called me about the Rhode Island hen I had given to the kids. Well, actually, I had given the kids four chicks last summer. One died, cause unknown. One disappeared one night, a trail of feathers bearing mute testimony that a predator carried her off. Two lived to adulthood, then one moved in with rooster down the street. The remaining hen is the darling of all the kids. Her youngest wakes up and won’t eat until Hen gets fed. Granddaughter and her oldest younger brother carry the hen around with them. Hen tries to come into the house with them, and lays eggs in shoes on the porch. FDIL was marveling. “Who knew that a chicken could be such a good pet?” She was concerned that hen was lonely and wanted to get a rooster to be her companion.

Well, I had an old Rhode Island red hen that was my companion and confidant when I was little, so I had an inkling, but FDIL has always been scared to death of chickens. She would be frightened of an aggressive rooster, and the kids could be badly injured. Soooooo, out to look at roosters.

I looked at two beautiful red roosters. The color was right, and they were larger than some of the other roosters. I put their food in, and WHOP! I got spurred in the wrist. That mean lil’ sucker hit bone. That HURT, and still hurts several hours later.

Guess who will be going into the freezer next?

Hens like to pick their companions, though, so this is probably not a good idea.