Winter has finally caught up with us. I’ve dumped the first ice-encapsulated drowned mouse out of the water tub, so it is officially winter now. I disposed of the poor thing with a minimum of Captain America jokes.
I understand why, on the ecological level, the temperate zones have to have a certain number of days below freezing in order for the plant and insect life to come back correctly in the next growing season. It’s just that the sheep don’t understand why, on the biological level, days below freezing make their ShepherdPerson want to pull the covers over her head and not come out until spring.
“What are you complaining about? This isn’t cold, this weather is perfect! Except for the water freezing, I don’t like that too much.”
I’ve never heard any other people with horned sheep mention this problem, but I’ve noticed that even though Liam’s horns are nowhere near tight enough to interfere with his jaw movement, once his fleece gets to a certain length they’re somehow cutting through the wool on his neck. I would think it would be painful, but he doesn’t act like it’s bothering him. I’m not sure if I should trim the wool out from under his horns, or just leave it alone.
I would say the loose clumps make him look like he has mutton chops, but we don’t like to use the word mutton around here. Politically incorrect, and all that.
After I’d finished making Liam nervous by staring at his wool, I did a headcount on the girls and came up one short. Yesterday it was Princess and Lady who wandered off, today it was Mira. She wasn’t out of the fence, so I went back up to the barn to look for her.
“Hmm, I think I’ll start with this bale…”
It seems to be the universal opinion of bottle babies that they shouldn’t have to push and shove with the common folk to eat their food. In Mira’s defense, it’s hard to push and shove when you’re so much smaller than everybody else. Princess in particular tends to butt Mira away from the hay rack during the “breakfast rush” unless I stand between them and keep pushing Princess’s head away.
“Oh, hi Mommy! This whole pile of hay is mine! That’s why you chased Princess away from it, right? Because it’s all mine?”
Isn’t there somewhere else you’re supposed to be right now, young lady?
“Yes. The house.”
Everything always seems to come back to that with Miss Mira. She still treats being put in a stall with the other sheep like a personal affront. She likes playing with other sheep though, even if she’d rather be in the house. Last time I looked out to check on them she was following Will around butting him in the rear and hopping up and down, so I’d say she’s doing fine.