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Friday, March 19 2010

If your time hasn't come,

not even a doctor can kill you."

                          Meyer A. Perlstein

Other Half returns home today. His parting words were, "Don't let the sheep die while I'm gone."
He takes great pride in the fact that he has managed to keep our two patients alive after their mauling (by HIS dog!) and was a bit reluctant to give me the heavy responsibility of keeping them on this side of the grass while he was gone. Aside from the fact that I don't want to bury another sheep this winter, I really don't want to face Other Half if they die on my watch.

Since doctoring these sheep is a two-person job, I enlisted the aid of Dear-Friend-Who-Is-Vet's-Wife.  Not only is she a reliable Helping Hand, but she has her husband on speed dial. Since she helped stitch them up after their attack, she has taken quite an interest in their recovery.  In fact, we are ALL amazed that they are alive.  (This is because they are cheap, mutt sheep that I hadn't planned to breed!  I am certain that if the dog had attacked $450 registered ewes, they would have been belly-up as soon as the dog ran past them. Soooo . . . even though they are not "supposed" to be part of the breeding program, they may stay around just because they have managed not to die.  Charles Darwin would love it.)

Neither Dear Friend, nor I, have a vet degree hanging on the wall, (Okay, she does, but it's not hers!) so we were really muddling through our Daily Doctoring Duties.  (I'm sure the sheep will be REALLY happy when Other Half is giving the shots again.)

Our days went pretty much like this:

Pull penicillin out of refrigerator. Shake. Shake. Shake. Get into deep discussion about whether or not penicillin is too lumpy. Find clean syringe. Find clean needle. Draw up 9 cc of penicillin. Thump at bubbles in syringe.  Cuss getting old. Put on glasses so we can see the bubbles. Thump syringe some more to remove bubbles.  Shoot penicillin out end to remove bubbles.  Shoot penicillin all over stall wall. (Farmer Graffiti) Draw up more penicillin to make up for what you painted all over the wall.  Thump out bubbles.

Turn to look at sheep. Sheep stare in resigned terror. Put syringe in tray to free hands for sheep wrangling. While not the brightest crayons in the box, sheep will still figure out the game plan when you poke them every day for two weeks. Begin the chase around stall.  Sheep are feeling better. Sheep can run now. Catch one ewe while other watches with growing dread.  Dear Friend straddles ewe, using her legs as a squeeze chute around sheep's neck. I poke ewe with needle.  Apologize to sheep again for putting the dog where she could eat them.  (The sheep are somewhat reluctant to accept my apology. I don't know why.) 

Stab thumb with needle while trying to put the cap back on.  Cuss.  Squeeze blood out of puncture. Discuss diseases that you can catch from being stabbed by sheep needle. Decide that life is too short to borrow trouble and opt not to worry about it. Because we ran out of aerosol pink topical spray, decide to use bright purple spray left over from a mangled chicken. (NOT my fault/chicken lived - until the bobcat ate her two months later!)

Spray sheep's leg. Manage to coat injured sheep's leg with purple topical spray. 

Also manage to spray myself in the face. (yes, I actually had to go to work with purple dots all over my chin!)

Also manage to spray favorite sweatshirt.

Also manage to spray Dear Friend's boots. 

No, the purple stains do NOT come out.  Favorite Gray Sweatshirt will now be a constant reminder that some idiot hosed herself in the face with purple medicine.  ("Who?") Dear Friend's boots are now farm boots. (I bought her a buffalo burger for lunch and gave her a lamb!)

Other Half should be home in 3 more hours.  Hopefully I won't kill the sheep in that time.  I really don't look forward to explaining that sweatshirt and why I still have purple stains on my chin.


Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 12:42 am   |  Permalink   |  0 Comments  |  Email

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