The old ones

The recent Jacob Sheep Breeders Association newsletter posed the question in their monthly poll, "What do you do with your old ewes?" It's a good question. I can't wait to read the answers.  I have a friend who sells all his does and ewes when they are 6 or 7 and he keeps replacement daughters for the ones he really likes. Very sensible shepherding practice.

Right now, 18-year-old Halfie cat is trying to push the computer off my lap. She's fairly toothless and needs daily combing, because she doesn't wash herself anymore, but she's purring happily and is my early morning helper and companion. My black-brindle-gone-gray Scrapie dog is at my feet. No telling her age. She was in her early middlin years when she hopped into my van in 2005.

Durfria, Lena's Arabian mare just turned 30. Her feet are good and her coat looks good. Her teeth are actually great. She has tummy troubles though, and gets a special feed with supplements now. The vet is worried and wants to do tests. We said, "She's 30," and he gave us a shot to give her when she's hurting.

Thyme is our original Jacob ewe.  She's 4-horned and ma or
great-grandma to much of the flock through her grandson
Dapper Dan.
She's at least 12 and more likely 13 or 14.

Old Thyme is our oldest and eldest Jacob ewe. She was our first Jacob sheep. We bought her with lamb at side in 2001. She's now toothless, but oddly enough, with our new high-grain drought feeding regimen, I've never seen her this fat. She actually has weight on her bones.

In the last few years, we've lost most of our foundation flock to age. Marjoram and Pennyroyal were dearly loved and missed when they passed. My grizzled old ranch vet was compassionate when he helped Marj on her way. We have several more sheep and goats in the 9-year-old bracket.

What do we do with our old ewes? We just keep loving them.

Cooking

It's cooking!

This is not a complaint - I am finally warm! Really, really warm. Is it ok for your computer if you drip sweat on the keyboard?

And think about it, the great majority of the world does not have air conditioning and humanity has advanced just fine without it.

But my brain is so boiled I don't remember how we thought we were going to live comfortably in Arkansas without air conditioning. We are doing it - but I wouldn't call it comfortable.
People are saying this is an extreme heat wave and it should break next week.

The critters seem to be dealing ok. That is the important thing. They stay low energy during the day.

The sheep have a fan, (look up at the barn roof) but the llamas have taken it over. The sheep spend a lot of the day laying under the trees, resting near the water trough.


The chickens don't seem to feel the heat. They are busy scratching and strutting and catching bugs. I wish I had their energy.

We have adapted. We try to get most of our outside work done between 6:00 and 9:00 am. Then we work in the workshop (though it is not really any cooler!) until 7:00 p.m. Then we are back out at the farm until dark. It seem the majority of our work is getting done between about 9:00 pm and 1:00 am, when it cools down enough to be able to think. And by then, it is cool enough to sleep.
But I'm not complaining.
Now, when it gets cold - I will complain!

Who's training who?

My critters find me very easy to train. I've been aware of this for years. When I am working with horses or other performance animals, I have to be very careful that we are progressing on my agenda - along with theirs!

For example, our little pug cross, Scraps, is on pain medicine for a torn ligament right now. The vet said the pills taste good and she should eat them fine. The first two, she did. Then she spit it out. I wrapped her pill in a hot dog. She ate it. Then this morning, she ate the hot dog, spit the pill out and expectantly looked at me. Obviously, I was supposed to wrap another hot dog around the pill.

At that point, I realized her scheme and force fed her the pill. She has a bit of a weight problem, too. She does not need extra hot dogs. I have one very unhappy little dog! She was sure she had her human much better trained than that.

Sometimes I don't even realize the ways they change my behaviour. My Aussie will come up and sit next to me. If I don't go into auto-pet the dog mode, he will rumble. Rarely any more does he have to escalate to a full "YIP" to get me to automatically start stroking him with a hand or foot.


Shawn laughed at me the other morning when he came into the office. It took me a minute to figure out why. His cat, Halfie, likes to sit in my office chair. She gets very upset and subversive if I move her. She will jump on my lap, rub on my computer and make a general pest of herself. But, if I just leave her in the chair and type over her, life is good.

Halfie knows who really runs the Common Threads office!