Bran moved out of the ewe pen this morning. When I say he “moved”, I mean he was hauled all the way across the field emphatically against his will, bucking and kicking and occasionally jumping straight in the air as high as my shoulder. That last surprised me a bit, I didn’t think he’d inherited any of the Soay agility.
He’s nowhere near Will Scarlet’s level of evasive maneuvers, though. Will was actually supposed to go to the boys’ pen with Bran, but he escaped and I couldn’t catch him again. It’s like he’s Neo’s full brother or something. Oh wait…
Prince Bran is Not Happy with this turn of events. He’s been bellowing at the top of his lungs all morning. Princess occasionally runs down there to check on him, but she isn’t paying a great deal of attention to his crying. It’s obvious she’s not pining at all.
“What’s happened to me? I’m suddenly the littlest! I’ve never been the littlest before!”
Liam didn’t seem too interested in his new pasturemate (who also happens to be his son!), but Neo is fascinated by Bran and keeps following him everywhere, sniffing at him and bouncing excitedly.
“Yay! I’m not the littlest anymore!”
Mira keeps staring through the fence at Bran with her eyes wide, like she can’t figure out why on earth he’s making such a fuss. She’s been weaned for a whole week, so she’s obviously beyond such babyish nonsense.
Though she’s obviously not beyond climbing into mom’s lap and chewing on her hair, like she’s always done since she was a little(er) baby. Her teeth are sharper now than they were then, however. Imagine my horror when I pulled a sizable lock of my hair free of her mouth, then realized she’d actually bitten about an inch and a half off the ends! Sheep make terrible hairdressers, but I’m sure they’d say it’s just karma for all the bad haircuts I’ve given them.
In other news, the barn is coming right along; it should be ready in plenty of time for next year’s lambs.
The framing is all done, and the siding is well underway.
Watcher is the official Supervisor of Human Activities and Destroyer of Water Jugs. He’s taken to sitting at the fence and howling if we go back to the barn without him.
Sandy is the official Taker of Naps, and diligently makes sure the couch doesn’t wander off. I’m not sure he even notices when we leave.
And Little John, the baby of the family, toddles along behind me and looks so adorably cute that he gets way too many crunchies.