With all the business and drama of lambing season, I think the poor dogs are convinced we’ve forgotten them entirely. They’ve taken to waiting by the back door to ambush me on my way out and demand attention.
“We’ve been replaced by a lamb. A lamb, Watcher!”
“I know. Lambing season is the worst.”
It’s Echo’s first lambing season, and his first experience of sharing the house with a bottle baby, so he doesn’t know it’s only temporary. I do try to make sure they both get petted and played with every day, even with everything else going on.
Duchess, Mr McGrumpyFace, and Mr McGrumpyFace’s angry eyebrows (who deserve their own mention) all got to come out of the barn today, though they didn’t get to rejoin the flock yet.
“Baah, there’s even more sunlight out here! And I was just getting the hang of walking in our stall, but now there’s all this grass to trip me up!”
If that lamb’s not careful, his face is going to get stuck that way and he’ll be named Mr McGrumpyFace forever.
Speaking of grumpiness, Mira’s fleece is completely loosened but hasn’t fallen off yet, and it’s itching her to distraction. She keeps rubbing against everything, or just collapsing to the ground dramatically and writhing trying to get it off.
“I am going to die of itchiness!”
That looks a lot like Cousin Itt, but it is actually Mira having a misery-despair-frustration-slump. The moping is intense.
“It’s sooo itchy!”
“Hey, ShepherdPerson! Mira needs help getting her old wool off!”
I would be very happy to pull the loose wool off, but every time I touch it she goes into very intense tantrum (or possibly a rage-induced seizure, it’s kind of hard to tell) so I have to sneak up on her, pull a handful off, and then dodge the angry flailing until she calms down.
“No, I do NOT need help, I Can Do It All By Myself!”
“Yeesh, ok! Don’t take it out on me!”
I used to wonder why parents of small children always groaned at the phrase “I can do it by myself.” I don’t wonder anymore.
Angel, Daughter of Mira, has started gleefully practicing her head-butting skills on everyone’s shins. Joy. The practice will probably come in handy when she starts playing with Drake the tiny gladiator, though.
Why are my sheep like this?