I’ve been keeping a close eye on the girls for injuries since they’ve been fighting so much, but it was poor old Jeb who turned up with only one horn last Monday. Broken horns bleed like crazy, but he managed not to bleed to death and it seems like it’s healing over ok now.
I’ve walked all the fences and checked all the feeders, and there’s no evidence of him getting his head stuck anywhere, and no trace of the missing horn itself anywhere in the field that I can find. His horns are big enough I’d expect to be able to find it, so I’m assuming an animal must have carried the horn off. It’s not that I particularly wanted to keep a broken horn, but I would have liked to have been able to figure out how he broke it.
I’ve been trying to get a picture of him ever since the bleeding stopped, but this is scaredy-cat Jeb so of course he’s convinced I’ve sensed his weakness and singled him out to eat him. I finally decided to ambush him at the barn doors when I let them out this morning. He still managed to bury himself in the middle of the flock, but he’s identifiable as the black sheep in the middle with the worried expression and a stump where his left horn should be.
“Oh no, she’s looking at me again, oh no, oh no!”
Pre-horn-breakage photo from earlier in the year for size reference. Poor guy’s head is going to be unevenly weighted now.
On a happier note, we put new round bales out yesterday in both fields, so the sheep had brand new piles of yummy waste hay on the ground to eat while mostly ignoring the new bales.
“Yum, this pile of hay on the ground is the best!”
The girls are equally silly about preferring what’s left on the ground to what’s in the feeders.
“This is the best hay ever!”
The only ones not crowded around the magical waste hay piles were Duchess and her two “babies,” who were standing by the gate insisting that yard grass would be better than any hay.
“Let us out! We are starving! I’m sure the grass is greener on the other side of the fence!”
It really isn’t, but they never believe me unless they can check for themselves.
Everyone seems to be dealing with the cold weather well, except being unhappy about the lack of green grass and leaves. I don’t like the cold, but I like that the animals feel more like themselves, instead of drooping around like they do when it’s too hot.
Although if it leads to fighting and broken horns, I could stand for them to maybe not feel quite so lively.