Ewenice

Towards the end of Carli's first year in 4-H, her advisor, Jeffie, asked me if I'd be interested in getting a couple of sheep for free. It was a Cheviot ewe and ram. Jeffie knew of a woman who just wanted them to go to a good home. She had been collecting various animals in the hopes of starting a petting zoo. Something happened and it didn't work out for her so she was finding homes for the animals.

This was before we bought Jamie Lee and Bruce Lee. I thought about it for a second or two and said, "Sure!" Jeffie gave me the lady's number. The next weekend I took Carli with me to the lady's house. I didn't bring the trailer but I had the truck and in the bed was the wire cage we had constructed for transporting Carli's 4-H lambs. It's basically a pvc frame with 2 x 4 wire bent over and wired on. Then we use tie downs so it won't fly out the back of the truck while we're driving. It's actually sturdier than it sounds.

Since I was so new to all this I failed to bring our lasso and extra helpers. I assumed the lady would know how to catch her own animals. I had been given the impression that the sheep shouldn't be too hard to catch.

We met the lady at her home and she took us to the back. She told me how she had bought the sheep over the phone and they were supposed to be "Babydoll" sheep. I had see pictures of Babydoll Southdown sheep and these two were definitely not Babydolls. They were Cheviots, pure and simple.

Fortunately she had a couple visiting her at the time, including one very tall strong looking young man. The ram, "Rambo", was very friendly and easy to catch. She simply shook a bucket of grain and his head was in the rope she provided. With the grain bucket in front and a couple people pushing from behind, we got Rambo out to the truck. The man picked up the front end and I picked up the back end and Rambo was in the truck.

Next came "Ewenice". Ewenice was on to us and would have none of the trickery that so easily captured her companion. Suddenly she dashed through the gate of her 1/4 acre corral and then we had to try and catch her in the larger yard. Just when we thought we had her cornered she would charge headlong through her would be captors. At one point she even ran straight into a fence, resulting in a small hole on the bridge of her nose. She still sports a scar there to this day.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, (it was probably really about 30 minutes) Ewenice managed to get herself tangled in an overgrown vegetable garden. We all pounced on her, grabbing hold of her long wool until the rope cold be put over her slim head.

It was hot and we were all huffing, puffing, and dripping with sweat. Ewenice was panting hard and I was worried about her. She hadn't been shorn in who knows how long. Now we had to get her to the truck. More pushing, pulling, and some dragging, and at last we made it there. We got her into the bed much the same way we did with Rambo. For a little sheep they sure are heavy! We secured everything carefully and were homeward bound.

Once home, I knew it would take some time for the sheep to get used to us and their new environment. I decided to let them keep the names they came with. Not very original, I know, but truth be told I probably would have named them the same thing myself.

The lady I got them from said she had them for about three or four years and they had not produced any offspring, even though they were together the entire time. I called the sheep vet to come out and examine them to make sure they were healthy. When he came out he gave them a thorough inspecton, including shots and worming. He declared them sound and said there should be no reason why they couldn't reproduce.

Ewenice

Rambo was a very friendly ram. He never showed any aggression towards any of us. He was like a big dog. He would come onto our back patio when we were sitting there and put his head in your lap to have his back or ears scratched.

I would take turns letting the different animals out so they had a chance to stretch their legs or nibble the grass. One day Carli let them all out together. When I saw that I yelled at her to put the cows up or the sheep up. I started out back to help put them away, but it was too late. It looked like Rambo thought Ladysmith, the cow, was a giant sheep, and Ladysmith was having none of it. She put her head to his belly and actually tossed him in the air a few feet.

I got everybody separated and looked Rambo over. There was no blood and he was walking okay, so I didn't think anything more of it. It wasn't until later in the week that I noticed he was getting more and more lethargic. One day later I found him dead in the barn. He'd only been with us for a few months. I think now he must have had internal injuries from Ladysmith's horn in his gut.

After we bought Jamie Lee and Bruce Lee we began letting the sheep all run together. One thing about Dorsets is they are very prolific. Bruce proved to be a fine example of the breed.

On July 27th Ewenice went into labor. Lacking prior experience I had to rely on other sources, books and the internet, most of which say to wait up until 1 1/2 hours before interfering with the ewe's labor. I kind of panicked a little and called the vet at his home, rather than calling the office. He politely informed me he was not the on-duty vet and to call the office. They could put me in touch with whichever vet was on call that evening. I felt bad because I knew that. (Note to vet: get an unlisted home number!)

I had never had to deliver before and I was a little squeemish about it. I knew we shouldn't wait any longer. Dean had come over and offered to help. I held Ewenice down and he reached in and ended up delivering the lamb. It was a large stillborn ram. Dean tried a little mouth to mouth and swung the lamb from it's back legs in an attempt to revive it.

It didn't work. The lamb had just been inside for too long. Ewenice lay exhausted in a corner of the stall and I brought the dead lamb to her. She carefully sniffed it all over. I think she realized it was dead. Finally I removed the lamb to dispose of it and left Ewenice to recover.

Jeffie heard about our bad luck and called. "Why didn't you call me?" she asked. "Just call me next time and I'll come over and help you!"

Three days later we took her up on her offer. Now it was Jamie's turn. Jeffie came over and after a short wait she went in and helped Jamie deliver. It was another huge single ram lamb, but this time it was wobbling around the stall. We all felt like proud grandparents.

The good news was that Ewenice proved she could have babies after all. The bad news was obviously that she lost her first baby, due to my ignorance. I swore the next time I would not make her wait so long.

Ewenice has since established that she is a good mother and fortune has smiled on us. We haven't lost any since then. Just seven months later she had twins, a girl and a boy, unassisted. We named them Doris and Boris and they ended up going to a grandpa who bought them for his grandkids.

Ewenice and this year's twin ram lambs

Things were looking up.

The First Flock

My daughter Carli started in 4-H when she was about 14. She didn't actually join that year, but helped a friend with her lamb project. Her friend was our next door neighbor Dean's niece and she and her brothers kept their lambs at his house, since they lived in the city limits. Carli really seemed to enjoy working with the lambs so I was really happy when she asked if she could join 4-H the following year. I figured it would give her something to do and maybe keep her out of trouble.

We started attending meetings and purchased her first lamb. The 4-H advisor was Dean's ex-mother-in-law, Jeffie. (Side note: Jeffie's daughter, Dean's ex-wife, later married the man who was my husband's best man at our marriage. We knew Jeffie from that time originally. Jeffie's daughter is now happily married to another man. Third time's the charm!

Showing a lamb involves a lot of work. Carli had to regularly practice walking and setting up the lamb, feed, water, keep slick shorn, graining, weighing, adjusting feed, attend meetings, and solicit sponsors, a lot of which I helped her with. I think the two big payoffs for Carli were when she got a week off school to participate in the fair, and when her check came in from the auction of her lamb.

Junior Livestock Auction, market lamb

The following year she asked if she could have a market lamb to show as well as a breeding pair. She had seen some of the other kids with their breeding sheep and show flocks. She thought she might like to have a show flock of her own. I thought it might be a nice idea too. Looking back, I think I was just living my dream through her. I'd always wanted to live on a farm and have animals but it just wasn't possible when I was growing up. Now I had my excuse.

To her credit, Carli bought her market lamb that year with the money she'd earned from the sale of her last lamb. After doing a little research on the internet, we settled on Dorsets for her breeding sheep. By happy circumstance, we found a breeder in Bakersfield.

Jamie Lee

Gregg and Marlene Bell own Ewephoric! Dorsets. They have a really nice operation and show at many shows around the nation. We told them what we wanted and they picked out an unrelated spring ewe lamb and fall ram lamb for us. I wrote the check for $500 (gulp!), $200 for the ewe, $300 for the ram, and we were on our way. We named the ram Bruce Lee and the ewe became Jamie Lee.

Bruce Lee

Carli worked hard with all of her sheep. It seemed like before we knew it, the fair was right around the corner. Through Jeffie, we found a sheep "fitter" (he's a guy that trims the sheep wool to show, like a dog groomer would trim a poodle for a dog show). He came out the day before the show to fit the two breeding sheep.

The night before he came we washed and dried the sheep and covered them with their sheep covers. That was something I was unprepared for at the time. We didn't have any covers and had to buy them and have them express shipped. They looked kind of funny but they had to stay clean. They are like a horse hood and blanket, only for sheep.

The fitter was a nice old man that was happy to see that he could set up in our big garage to do his work. He told us that some people had him fitting on uneven surfaces, in the hot sun, or other major inconveniences. We supplied him with cold sodas, a fan, and a radio, and he got to work.

About four hours after beginning, the fitter was done with both sheep. He had worked magic with them. They actually looked like big time show sheep now, like you see in the sheep magazines. There went another couple hundred dollars, but I have to say he really earned it.

It was show time at the fair! Carli did some last minute touch ups. She smoothed out where the blankets had pressed the wool too much and cleaned off some hanging straw and it was time to go in the ring. (The kids are the only ones allowed to do grooming once they are on the fair grounds.) One of her friends from school who was in another 4-H club helped her show the breeding sheep. Since those sheep are usually full grown by then they can be difficult if not impossible for one person to set up so they are allowed another 4-H member to help.

Jamie Lee was first up. Marlene, the sheep's breeder, was on hand with her camera. After the whole rigamarole of walking, standing, feeling, and more walking, the judge had everyone line up before he made his final picks. He pointed at Carli for Number 1! Jamie Lee had won Champion Breeding Dorset Ewe.



A sheep show is very similar to a dog show. First all the ewes of one breed enter the ring to pick the best of that breed. Then those that were chosen best go back to determine the Supreme Champion. The same is done for the rams.

Carli took Jamie Lee back in for the Supreme Champion competition, but I could see Jamie Lee was a little tense while walking and had an unattractive hump in her back. If I remember correctly, a Rambouillet ewe was chosen as Supreme Champion Breeding Ewe.

Now it was time for Bruce Lee to go in the ring. First with all the other Dorset rams. They walked around, set up, the judge examined each ram, then had them walk again. They lined up and the judge pointed at Carli for Number 1! Bruce Lee was Champion Dorset Breeding Ram. We waited while the other breeds went around and their champion was chosen.

Finally it was time for Carli and Bruce to go back in, this time for the Supreme Champion Ram competition. They walked around as before. All the rams looked impressive. Once again the judge had them all lined up and then gave a little comentary on each sheep. Finally he came to Bruce. He went on about his nice structure, good walk, type, loins, and whatever else, and then finally said, "And that's why this is my pick for Supreme Champion Breeding Ram."

Supreme Champion Breeding Ram

Marlene and I screamed and the small crowd clapped. Marlene turned to me and said, "Well you know what this means, don't you?" I wasn't really sure what she meant. "You can't go any higher. You can't stay on top forever."

She was right. Carli turned 16 and suddenly lost all interest in the sheep. I like to say that was the worst year of my life. She was hardly home, she'd come home too late, she was drinking. It was a bad time for my husband and me. My friends at work all reassured me, or tried to. "She'll come around." "It's just a phase." "When she turns 18 she'll snap out of it."

Thankfully, my friends were right. When Carli was 17 1/2 she got a new boyfriend, a new attitude, started going to a new school, and got her first real job. The transformation was amazing and I am forever grateful.

Carli

She's 18 now and almost graduated. She is making straight A's and showing some interest in junior college. She has her own apartment, a great new job, and able to take care of herself. She visits us regularly and has taken an interest once again in the sheep. Not that she wants any but likes to see the babies and is willing to help me when I ask, without throwing a fit.

This flock has a happy ending to its beginning!

Baby & Nunzio

About nine months ago my son called me from his cell phone. "Do you want another sheep?" he asked. "For free?"

Without hesitation my first response was, "Is it a girl or a boy? How old is it?"

Never mind that we actually have more animals than the county says we are allowed on our little piece of paradise here in God's country we call "Rosedale". (That's a joke for all you non-Bakersfieldians.)

Wil went on to explain; it was a two year old Suffolk ewe that was owned by his friend Tanner. Tanner lived mostly with his dad and kept the ewe at his mom's two acre place. His mom was moving to Texas and couldn't take "Baby" with her. They were trying to find a good home for her.

I knew I really shouldn't have, but... "Okay, sure, when should we get her?"

Wil made the arrangements and one hot June day we drove the couple miles to Tanner's mom's house to pick up the sheep. I waited out front with the trailer while the boys ran to the back of the house. After just a few minutes they came out with a ginormous ewe at the end of a halter. My eyes were bugging out.

"What is that?!" I asked.

Recent photo of Baby

"This is Baby," was the answer.

Tanner's mom came out and introductions were made.

"Yeah," she said, "we kind of spoil her rotten. We wanted her to go to a good home and Wil says you have other sheep too."

I assured her Baby would be well taken care of. I told her we would make a momma out of her and she needn't worry about us putting Baby in the freezer.

I brought Baby home and decided the first thing she needed was a diet. This sheep was about as big around as she was tall. They should have called her Butterball. I have never seen such a fat sheep in my life!

One way 4-H kids learn to tell condition in a sheep is to feel the ribs. Take your left hand and make a fist. Take the fingers on your right hand and feel over the fingers of the fisted hand. That is how the ribs are supposed to feel. If the ribs feel like when you rub your fingers over the knuckles, that is too thin. And if the ribs feel like when you rub your hands over the flat part between the knuckles and wrist, that is too fat.

When I touched Baby's ribs it was like I was poking my own belly, all soft and pillowy. Apparently Baby spent her time in a knee high pasture and got lots of grain as a treat. She was almost like a dog that would come running in from the back of the yard when you called her name, so she could get her goodies.

First I had to integrate her into my flock. It was obvious that the other ewes didn't like her. I had two adult ewes and had four young sheep that were being weaned. I put her in with the babies so she wouldn't get beat up. During the day I would let them all out and at night I would separate them into their groups. Their pens were side by side so they had a chance to get used to each other slowly.

By the time the babies were totally weaned I was able to keep all the ewes together. I kept the three ewe lambs and sold the ram lamb, so now I had a total of six ewes. The young ewes were actually still too young to breed so once again we put them in separate pens. But this time I added Perry, my new ram, to the mix.

Perry and the girls stayed together night and day for about three months, until I noticed he was getting a bit too bossy. I went ahead and put him back in his own pen. Sheep have a gestation period of about five months, so I knew to start paying close attention towards the end of December.

At the beginning of January Baby started getting an udder. I was very excited to see what the baby would look like. I was also excited that Perry was able to perform as promised to me when I bought him.

On January 13th we found Baby in the barn with a little ram lamb. He was adorable, as all lambs are. I dipped his navel in iodine and made sure he was nursing. I has happy to see that Baby was an excellent mother.

Baby's first baby

My next door neighbor Nancy's birthday is also on January 13, so I started calling the lamb Nunzio.

Nunzio

Nunzio grew fast and I had to admire his stocky frame every time I saw him. My daughter would come over and we would both appreciate the thickness in his rear end. Too bad that's not an admirable trait in humans. I'd be a prize!

When Nunzio was about one and a half months old I was petting Baby and went to check her ribs. I was shocked to discover she had gotten very thin, despite the extra grain I was feeding her. It was time to wean Nunzio, even though it seemed a bit early to me.

Baby took it harder than Nunzio. She cried for him a lot, much to my husband's annoyance, but finally settled down. Nunzio, on the other hand, was fine. He was eating hay and grain and playing with the ewes. He would lay down at night next to his mother with the fence between them and that was good enough for him.

Finally I decided the time was right to sell Nunzio. He was about two and half months old and looking good. I always wish a 4-H kid would buy my lambs, but they often have their own sources. Anyway, I made a flyer with pictures and posted it in a few feed stores.

Nunzio, one month old

I got one call in three weeks, but the person never came by. Hey, I'm only asking $50! When my daughter was in 4-H we paid $250 for her lambs, with no papers. I thought $50 was a real bargain!

Like many papers, our newspaper has an ad section of "$100 or Less" where you can post items at no charge. I tried posting an ad on line but it didn't come out when it was supposed to. Then I called and the lady said they don't do those ads on weekends, I'd have to call on Monday. I called on Monday and a different lady said the "$100 or Less" ads could only be done on-line. I tried two more times and the ad never showed. It did say they wouldn't put cars or pets in that section, but to me Nunzio was neither.

My other option as far as the newspaper was concerned woud be to put the ad in the "Livestock" section. That would cost me about $35 (I had done it once before). If I did that for one $50 lamb I would hardly make enough to cover the cost of the ad! So I took my final option, which was to take him to the local auction yard.

Every Thursday they sell cows, swine, goats, and sheep. I dropped him off and kept my fingers crossed. I would be happy to get $20 for him, so long as I didn't have to pay the newspaper their exorbitant charge. It was the principal of the thing.

Then Saturday I got a call from a man that saw one of the flyers. I apologized to him and told him the lamb was sold. Then I rushed out to remove the flyers. I wondered if I'd gone to the auction too soon. I'd have to wait until I got the check to see.

Nunzio at 2 months

Monday I went out to get the mail and saw an envelope from the auction yard. I ripped it open and there was my check and the receipt for the lamb. He had sold for $90! Minus the yard fees I got $82.90.

Not bad for a "free" sheep!

Ear Tagging & Shearing

Saturday was a busy sheep day for me. I know I only have six ewes but I'm still relatively new to all this so things take me multiple times longer to do than a truly experienced shepherd.

I still hadn't tagged Jamie's twins' ears yet, and Poppy was the last of the ewes that needed to be sheared. I knew the shearing would be the hardest and take the longest, so I got everything ready to do the tagging first.

I used to do the tail banding and ear tagging the day after they were born, but this year when I tagged Ewenice's twins, one of them ended up with a floppy ear. Maybe I didn't put the tag close enough to the ear base, I don't know.

I went into the pen and cornered one of the twins. It was the second born, the ram lamb. I put him under my arm like a football and took him to the patio table where I had my equipment set up.

There was an upside down top to a Kool Lube can filled with alcohol, two CA state scrapies tags, and two sets of blank tags that I previously wrote their numbers on. 07-04 and 07-05, for the 4th and 5th lambs born in 2007. To round out the equipment list were the two tagging implements, one for the state required scrapies tag and another for the farm tag, because they are different sizes and are not interchangeable, unfortunately.

With 07-05 tucked under my arm I put his tags in the respective taggers and dipped the first in the alcohol. This part always makes me a bit nervous because I don't do a lot of lambs and my books always advise to be careful not to hit one of the two main veins in the ear. I positioned the tagger carefully and gave a hard squeeze. Success! The second tag went smoothly as well.

My confidence was up and I knew I'd get better the more I did it.

I carried the lamb back to the pen and set him free, where his mother carefully checked him out to make sure all was well. Then I cornered his sister and just as she was about to leap away I managed to grab a back leg. I got her into the same football hold under my arm and carried her to the table. Her tags were placed in the taggers and dipped in the alcohol. The first tag was placed on her ear and I squeezed the tagger. That's when she decided to put up a big struggle.

I didn't have her head in a good enough head lock and by the time I got the tagger released she had helped herself to a nice big hole. It's supposed to be like getting your ear pierced: a quick, hard squeeze that lasts just a second, but now she had a huge hole like those kids that wear the "plugs". Blood was dripping. So much for my confidence. I managed to get the other tag in without any problem, but boy did I feel bad. I set her loose in the pen with her brother and mother. They rushed over to her and checked her out.

The hole in the ear

Great. Now she has a floppy ear too, due to the large hole. This must be the year of the floppy ear. At least it stopped bleeding fairly quickly. I rationalized that some people cut tips or notches out of their livestock's ears, so I knew it was more traumatic for me than for the lamb.

Now it was time to shear Poppy. She is the notoriously dumb sheep. A couple of weeks ago my daughter was here helping me with some shearing. We had sheared all but Poppy. We managed to get a rope on her and tried to bring her to the big garage where we had done the other sheep. It's much easier to clean the cement of the wool and droppings than the grass, plus it was in the shade.

After dragging, pushing, pulling her out of the pen she promptly flopped down on the grass and refused to move. Okay smarty pants! We got the lawn tractor with the little trailer attachment that I use for feeding. We managed to get her mostly into the trailer (it has a dump feature) and sort of half dragged, half trailered her to the garage. We got her to just outside the gate leading to the garage and pushed her out of the trailer onto the grass. It was like she was paralyzed.

Everyone was kind of huffing and puffing from the exertion so I decided we had done enough for the day and we could shear Poppy another day. Not surprisingly, there were no arguments.

Poppy before

Saturday was that day. This time I thought I would bring the equipment to the sheep. I had a long extension cord coming out of the big garage window and all my shearing equipment in a big bucket. I had two ropes, one to catch and tie her to the fence and the other to tie around her feet if needed. I was going to get this done, one way or the other.

I got her cornered and got the lasso around her neck. I chased the other sheep out of the little pen and closed that gate so they couldn't come back in and interfere. Poppy still had herself wedged into a corner. I eventually managed to push her out of the corner and drag her to where my equipment was waiting.

I knew I wouldn't be able to put her on the stand so I didn't even bother with that. I figured if she was going to flop down like she did previously I would try to shear her like a real shearer would, on the ground.

She did flop down and I got to work. I started at her head and was going down her neck when I encountered an obstacle. Oh come on now, I knew the clippers couldn't be that dull. What was it? I thought it was a giant wool knot that I couldn't get through. I worked on it for a few moments when suddenly I felt really silly. The "knot" was the lasso around her neck! No wonder I couldn't shear through it!

I pulled the rope higher up her neck to the shorn area and continued without too much more trouble. She only jumped around a few times (a couple when I cut her skin--well who wouldn't jump at that?) and a couple times when she thought I wasn't paying attention and she thought she could break free. Once she managed to wrap herself and me with the rope and extension cord. I'm still not sure how I was able to get out of that predicament. Another time she had been standing nicely and then suddenly flopped down, taking me out with her. Now I have a nice little bruise and abrasion on my right collarbone for her trouble.

Poppy after

Finally she was done! And it only took, what, an hour, maybe an hour and a half? (Real shearers only take a few minutes per sheep!) I gave her a handful of grain as a reward and set her free. I let the other sheep out to enjoy the grass and set about cleaning up.

07-04's ear was already better and she was racing about the yard with her brother and half brothers. Poppy was nonchalantly nibbling the grass and looking much more comfortable without her wool coat on.

A big time shepherd might laugh at me but I felt like I got a lot accomplished.