Will and Little John still haven’t been wethered. The vet was supposed to come this afternoon, but I had to reschedule. Again. Because everything out there is soupy mud. Again. Oh well, at least that gives me more time to come up with a strategy for catching Will Houdini Scarlet.
“Forget it; Neo told me all about what that vet does. I’m not letting her get ahold of me!”
Between being soaking wet and the beginnings of a black mane starting to sprout, he’s turning almost as dark as Bran and Johnny.
“Maybe if I stay right next to big brother Bran ShepherdPerson will get confused and grab him instead!”
Don’t get your hopes up, Johnny. You two may look alike, but you don’t look that alike. Bran the Brawny still has a noticeable size advantage, and Johnny has those distinctive white face patches.
“I don’t care what you do with the lambs, can’t you do something about all this rain? I’m tired of floody puddles!”
This is not July weather, this is April weather. Everything has been so muddy so long that the sheep are starting to limp. I’d love to move them somewhere drier, but there just isn’t any place on the farm that’s not muddy. I throw a deep layer of straw in the Clubhouse, and by morning it’s straw soup in there.
The girls try to stay in the highest parts of the field as much as possible, but every time I go out Mira squelches along behind me with exaggerated steps and a disgusted look on her face.
“I don’t like this, Mommy! I want to come back in the house!”
Not only is the poor girl wet, but her baby fluff is starting to shed, making her look even more bedraggled.
I think she got over stressed during the severe thunderstorm yesterday, last night she kept rubbing her face against my leg and being whiny and clingy like she used to when she was a baby, on one of the (far too many) days when she was sick. She tried strenuously to get out the gate and run to the house, and kept acting like she wanted a bottle, which she hasn’t done in ages.
I sat with her in my lap in the catch pen for a long time while she fussed and nuzzled and chewed on my nose, chin, hair, clothes, fingers… anything she could reach. After about a half hour she seemed to feel better. She got up and went to bed happily enough. I, on the other hand, was drenched, stiff, muddy, and well chewed. Ah, the joys of motherhood.