Mr Dandelion got his head stuck in the barn door the other day trying to reach the hay inside the door. Because the hay in the barn is obviously much better than the hay I put out for them. Everyone knows I hoard the good stuff.
Being a surprisingly easygoing sort of wether, he didn’t panic and hurt himself. When I found him he was alternately tugging at his head, then giving up and munching on the hay he’d stuck his head in there to reach in the first place before trying to tug his head out again. I’m not sure how he got his silly head through such a small gap in the first place, but he isn’t talking.
“At least I got to eat the good hay!”
His big brother Neo got his horns stuck trying the same thing about a week ago and we had to cut the wire grating to get him out, so the doors have now been adjusted to (hopefully) exclude even the most determined of sheep heads.
Frankly, I’m quite willing to blame the whole thing on Lady.
After extensive thought and digging through the blog, I’ve concluded that every single instance of someone having their head stuck was either Lady or one of her sons, aside from one (1) instance where Princess got stuck when she was a baby and wasn’t used to having horns yet and once or twice when Duke’s escape attempts went wrong and he got stuck. Clearly it’s something to do with either her genes or her parenting.
Lady and all three of her boys have had to be rescued from fences, and the only reason Holly and Marigold don’t get stuck is because they have no horns. Holly has a semi-permanent groove worn into the wool around her neck because she preferentially grazes outside the fence, and Marigold shares the tendency. I have a lot of pictures of the two of them grazing side-by-side with their heads through adjacent holes in the fence, pushing as hard as they can against the wire to reach the “best” grass.
There’s really no need for such desperate measures, they have plenty of grass in the summer and I don’t skimp on giving them hay. But it’s an unwritten but universally understood rule that the most difficult food to reach must be the best.
“I like hay because it means I don’t have to walk far.”
Understood by everyone except Liam, that is. He has no objection to easy food. The sheep have decided that what leaves are left on the big tree are past their prime, and therefore they mob the hay feeder first thing instead of marching down to the tree. Note Holly and Marigold climbing up on each side of the feeder to reach the “best” hay on top.
Nina is very vocally upset about this disruption in her morning routine, and stands by the gate yelling for everyone to hurry up for several minutes before giving up and going to join the rest.
“This is All Wrong and it’s not What We Always Do! I’m going to yell about it!”
Nina’s response to everything is yelling. She’s the most vocal sheep on the farm. I’m sure she’ll get over it in a few days. At least I hope so.
I now have two jumbo bobbins of Liam singles spun, so I am making progress. One jumbo bobbin is rather more full than the other once I wound the singles off. I’m relatively good at spinning reasonably consistent singles, but not at estimating how much I’ve spun. I’m hoping to get the third jumbo filled over the weekend. Also hoping not to have to pry anyone else’s head out of doors or fences.