So, because it’s tiresome to always be the dumbest farmers on the block, today we (royal we) built a corral. This means we don’t have to get Frank to wrangle sheep quite so much.
Though Frank likes to wrangle sheep and he doesn’t mind.
We wanted to give some wormer to the sheep. We’re using an herbal wormer that is natural and can be given monthly as a medication and a preventative. 52 built a corral in a corner of the sheep’s current pasture, and we formulated a plan.
We would mix the herbal wormer in with some of their feed in a pan. One of us would go into the corral with the feed and bring in one sheep at a time while the other of us would cut the rest of the sheep off at the pass.
I volunteered to be the one to go into the corral with the feed as cutting the rest of the sheep off at the pass sounded scary.
Mostly because the rest of the sheep includes Mr. Cotswold.
Backing up…. I am terrified of Mr. Cotswold. One time last winter, for some reason that I can no longer recall, after dark (and it does get dark really early in the winter here), I went into the sheep pasture to close the gate on the other side. We were shutting them off from the other pasture. I can’t remember all the details of why, but I was halfway across the pitch black pasture when I knew the sheep were coming behind me. Mr. Cotswold had rammed me from behind previously on several occasions and I was already leery of him. In a thoughtless second, I thought to turn so I could “see” him coming.
Well, of course I couldn’t see him coming. It was pitch black. Mr. Cotswold rammed me head on, in my lower abdomen. I couldn’t see anything. It was so dark. I barely kept my feet and I just started crying and screaming because it hurt so bad. You have no idea how swiftly, and how strongly, a 200-pound ram can hit you until you’ve been hit by one. They can fly you off your feet. I was in the middle of this black-black pasture all by myself, in pain, and so scared that Mr. Cotswold would hit me again before I could get out. I grabbed the fenceline and stumbled my way in terror to the other gate and finally out.
That hurt for months. I cry just thinking about it because I was so scared that night. None of our other farm animals have ever scared me. But that ram…. Oh, yeah, I’m terrified of him.
I have not gone into a field alone with Mr. Cotswold since, and I don’t like to go into the field even with someone else there. I stay out of the sheep pasture.
Anyway! Back to the new makeshift corral and the herbal wormer…. Going into the sheep pasture is a big, big deal to me. Sheep, unless they are a bottle lamb like Annabelle, just want your food, they don’t care about you. When you try to do something official like give them wormer or a shot, they RUN AWAY. So, 52 and I went into the sheep pasture this evening, me hiding behind him. I was going to go into the pen and he was going to cut the rest off at the pass. We got one in.
IT TURNED OUT TO BE MR. COTSWOLD.
I was trapped in the pen with Mr. Cotswold.
That was THE LAST ONE I wanted to be with in the corral. But trying to get one in and cut the rest off was more difficult than we expected and THAT WAS THE ONE THAT CAME IN.
It was like being shut up in a closet with Hannibal Lecter. I freaked out. Quivering, blibbering-blubbering mass. Mr. Cotswold loves the feed-herbal wormer combo and he couldn’t get enough of it.
While he was eating it, that was the longest two minutes of my life.
And then I was even more scared because I didn’t have any more and I was afraid he might kill me for that.
52 shielded me all the way out then he went into the pen and he corralled the rest of them while I just handed him pans of feed and wormer over the fence. I can handle every animal on the farm except that ram.
And I’m just sayin’……… We will probably not have sheep forever.
Because I am scared of him.