Busy season

It's the Busy Season.  Fair Season, Christmas Season, Mud Season, Lambing Season, Hay Season... And Busy Season.

The Busy Season is so chock full of work that it has to share its season with Haying.

There's no shortage of work these days, and the heat is becoming sweltering.  Every night feels like the beginnings of a glorious thunderstorm, and yet nothing comes.  Day after day of thermometer-busting heat and oppressive humidity.

Thank God everything is sheared, but there's more than enough work left to keep the critters cool...

Nicholas the alpaca being sheared for the first time EVER

Windows in the barn need to be opened to let the not-so-cool breeze through, and promptly closed again if it plans on raining.  Hay needs to be unloaded and stored, water buckets need to constantly be filled, and even more constantly be scrubbed; even sheared nearly naked the alpacas are hot and have discovered the pleasure of standing in the water.  At least the llamas only dunked their heads!

All our sheep have lambed, and some of the goats we bred early in the season, but we still have more left to pop.  Gray Baby in particular, my sweet old momma goat, is incredibly pregnant.  She mopes around as if the world is going to come to an end if the kids inside her don't give up their hold soon- and with the temperatures nearing 100 it very well might.

Love is both pregnant AND fat. And laying in silly spots to stay shaded. 

The farrier is in, regardless of the heat, and ponies we bought over the winter now have perfect feet so they can be taught what their job actually is.  I do my best to scrounge up friends' kids on days that I manage to be off from any other jobs, but sometimes the ponies are found walking in circles with bags of grain, or secured logs, or wet laundry on their backs to simulate the weight.  Better to throw off a bag of grain after six months of not working than a kid!

The old-hat ponies that don't need any training- or refresher courses- revel in the weekdays they have "off."  On any given day working in the barn it's far from unusual to look out the back of the barn and count half a dozen ponies (if not more!) sprawled out on their sides sleeping in the sunshine.  It's such a normal sight to me that the first time a "horse person" started screaming when they saw it I simply couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.  They're ponies.  Isn't it just what they do?

The ponies aren't the only ones being lazy during the Busy Season- llamas are just as bad, expecting people to do nothing but mist them with the hose, and not taking into account the barn that needs to be mucked out.  Goats flop about whining for extra hay just to make a mess with and lay in.  Sheep bleat constantly, expressing their displeasure in the music choices, it seems, or something else just as absurd.

In the hot weather none of the animals want to behave.  The ponies break through fences, the cows flip upside down in the hoof-trimming chute, and on days when she's supposed to go to work, the camel won't leave the barn.

In this picture, though, she obviously had left the barn

She then makes everyone run late, and not take into account that we're all quite busy enough without her stubborn attitude.

Ram

We don't have normal sheep. We don't have white fluffy things that bleat from the hillside pasture and lay quietly when it's time to shear.

Our sheep are amazingly strange. They grow up with people surrounding them, petting them, picking them up and feeding them. They don't run from herding dogs, and they don't understand that they are supposed to have flight zones. They're too smart for their own good.

Jacob sheep are often cited as one of the world's oldest breeds of domesticated sheep, with their lines and lineage dating back to biblical times. The name Jacob itself is in direct relation to Jacob of the Old Testament, who bred spotted sheep with multiple horns. There are even paintings and engravings of spotted sheep in Egyptian tombs. They are considered "unimproved" or
"primitive" sheep, meaning that they have not been drastically over-bred to resemble the animals they are today. As much as they have many wonderful characteristics, they have just as many undesirable ones. The gene that carries the multi-horn trait also carries a split-eyelid trait. Although it looks to be a white sheep with black spots, if crossbred with another breed the lamb will undoubtedly come out nearly solid black.

Jacobs are not a terribly useful breed of sheep, though if you ask someone trying to sell one they will waste no time in telling you that they are a multi-use breed. If you ask me, their small size- rams rarely weighing more than 120 lbs.- detract from them being used as a meat breed. On the flip side, it does make them much easier to handle as pets. Their light, spotted coat needs only to be sheared once a year, but while a few hand-spinners value it for its low lanolin content and smooth feel "on the hand", it has very little use commercially. When blended as a whole, the black wool turns the entire batch a rustic gray, which can not be dyed. And don't try to milk them. It's just not a pretty picture.

Those horns, though. The trademark of the breed. Both males and females are horned, though the male's horns far surpass the female's in wow factor. Marsha, our best ewe, has a set of four beautiful horns that average out at about six inches long, and maybe a whopping inch in diameter at the base. Patrick, our current ram, turned four-years-old this past March, and his horns are each easily two-and-a-half-feet-long. Sherman, our last ram, topped that by another six or eight inches. Jacobs must be horned to be registered, though how many horns is quite open to the owner's preference. Most "British" Jacobs are two-horned, and resemble many other horned breeds of sheep. We prefer to breed for four horns, though some Jacobs can be registered with up to six horns sprouting from their heads. Personally, I've never seen a six-horn Jacob, and knowing our four-horns, I can't imagine where they would put two more horns.

What brings this post about, is Patrick. Patrick was, obviously, born on St. Patrick's day four years ago. His mother was a two-horn registered ewe named Alice. Alice was probably one of my favorite ewes of all time. She was a sweet docile girl with two beautiful swept-back horns. She faithfully gave us a single four-horned lamb every year and nursed and raised it wonderfully. Until she had twins for the first time ever. Patrick was orphaned, and raised in the house with the poodle and the monkeys. She nursed and raised his twin with no other complications.

Patrick's father Sherman was getting old, and understandably so. When he finally passed away the winter before last he was seventeen years old. We knew it would happen, so when Patrick's horns began to come in a wonderfully as they did we made the decision to leave him intact and keep him to replace Sherman as our breeding ram. We eventually sold his mother and full-blooded sisters, as well as a couple older ewes who we knew were not producing the quality we wanted. When our lambs were sheared last summer I was thrilled to find out that three of them were Sherman's before he passed away.

And while Patrick puts out beautiful babies, he's getting out of control. His testosterone is clouding the parts of his brain that tell him to behave. He wants what he wants and he wants it NOW. He rams the gates if I'm cleaning and not paying enough attention to him. He starts chasing the lambs if he thinks they're getting in the way of his food. If he has any concerns about Ted or me not feeding fast enough he'll rev up and ram at us. I have never been rammed at by any other sheep before.

Sherman used to curl up on my lap and fall asleep!

We've gone through four gates on the sheep stall in the barn. We are constantly fixing holes he pokes in the barn walls with his horns. At least twice a month I walk up to the barn to find his horns stuck on some fence or feeder because he's been ramming at it. When we separate him from the ewes he calms down a bit- at least enough to be respectful- but for this farm it's not a permanent solution. Sherman was trustworthy. We could let Sherman out in the barnyard and he would buddy up with Jazzer and putz around. If Patrick gets loose Jazzer goes running for the hills.

Patrick is a gorgeous ram. He's nearly breed-perfect. He throws some of the most beautiful lambs I've seen in a long time. He's just too much. This is the first year Ted and I have been hoping for a ram lamb, just so we could consider replacing him.

But where would he go? The few other Jacob breeders in the state have all but closed up shop, and those that are left have breeding rams that they're perfectly content with. I have a nagging concern that anyone interested in him through Animal Finder's Guide would just be looking for an interesting trophy ram, and even when he makes me angry I don't want him mounted on some guy's wall in Montana.

But sometimes, usually when I'm standing in the shower staring at yet another bruise I know couldn't have come from anyone but Patrick, I can't help but consider what he would look like mounted on MY wall...

Casey

I was going to post about taking Casey to the farm, and how much help he's been now that he's older, but instead I'll just post pictures.

Amy, Emerald's sister and the first llama born in February, loves Casey. (I love Jasper in the back going, "Um, Guys? I'm kinda pooping here, can you give me some privacy?")

She LOOOOOOOVESSSS him.

If I saw hime not working, it was usually because Amy accosted him and nuzzled him into submission. I can't say it really bothered him much.

Of course, her adoration for him DID cut into his Jazzer-Time.

Casey cleaned the sheep all by himself (well, for the most part) and even dumped the wheelbarrow on his own TWICE. And it only fell over once!

He spent all day eyeing the lambs and trying to catch one. I helped him catch this one.