Farm Fresh Blog

I spend a lot of time looking at sheep butts.   

Now before you call the authorities and have me hauled off, let me explain.  I like "tending" sheep.  I enjoy walking out among my little charges, sipping my coffee, while I look for signs of impending births, impending problems, and anything else that happens to catch my eye. 

Briar and I compare notes.

Take this ewe for instance.

     Because I don't have an exact date on when she should be due, I've been waiting on Big Mamma here to deliver for a month. Thus, I spend a lot of time staring at her butt. She is the lead ewe.  While she is not the exact picture of what I'd like to breed for, she has the right temperament, and she throws nice hulking babies.  This ewe is the calm voice of reason among the flock. (if it can be said that sheep EVER possess a voice of reason)  Because of this, I named her "Maa."

     Not every sheep has a name.  Some are just sheep - nameless, faceless butts, in a sea of black and white. But some are special.

 Roanie

I enjoy spending time walking among them with their Great White Dog.  Time slows down as I listen to them graze, peace settles on the pasture . . . and in my soul.

Clouds pass overhead and I have romantic notions of what life must have been like for shepherds who spent most of their time alone, tending their flock.  I swallow that last drop of coffee and walk back to the house, quite aware that if I were freezing my ass off in a Wyoming winter with those shepherds right now, the image would not be nearly as romantic.