Generally, shearing is my least favorite part of sheep keeping. There’s a reason I started out with a breed that theoretically doesn’t need to be sheared. It’s hard, it’s dirty, and I ache for days afterwards, especially with the naughty sheep that fight and squirm the whole time.
But on the bright side, my dread of shearing is mixed with anticipation of having lovely fleeces to play with, and nobody around here has a lovelier fleece than Liam, who got his annual haircut yesterday. He was a pretty good boy about it, only really wiggled when we were cutting around his face, neck, and privates. Which, granted, are the worst possible times for him to be shimmying around while we’re trying to cut, but I can’t really blame him for being nervous.
There wasn’t as much confusion about his identity as there was about Lana and Nina after their haircuts, possibly because the sheep have seen him sheared before. Or possibly because the only pure white sheep in the flock is more easily recognizable than two brown sheep out of over a dozen other brown ones. Even if he does go from a light gray sphere-with-legs to an almost luminously white miniature Dall sheep when he’s sheared.
“Now we have matching haircuts, Lana!”
This morning he finally had the energy to put his hoof down about Will Scarlet flirting with his girlfriend. I was starting to wonder why he was letting that go on so long. His fleece was very big and heavy, he must feel lighter and cooler without carrying all that around with him.
“Lana’s MY girlfriend, go away!”
Poor Will. Foiled in love yet again. It’s hard being a lady’s man when all the ewes are either taken, pregnant, or part of his immediate family.
“This is MY little family, Will can go find his own!”
I haven’t had a chance to examine his fleece very closely yet, but from what I saw of it while shearing, it’s just as pretty as the last two. Maybe this will be the year I manage a hand spun Liam sweater!