Ok, I didn’t know a thing about sheep.    I didn’t know they were charming, curious, noisy, trampling things, nor beguiling, appealing and shapely.  Until I brought some home, and then I was smitten.  Before that, it was a bit worrying, especially when the casual and smiling sheep farmer pointed waaaaaaaay over yonder to the sheep I was there to inspect for possible purchase.  From that distance, they looked around 3 centimeters tall, small white blobs intent on the grass.  I squinted.  There was the occasional tussle with the free range pigs sharing their paddock–some head butts and squeals, white woolly charges and streaks of running pink–but for the most part, I couldn’t see a single detail of my potential possessions.  The relaxed sheep farmer, with her take-’em-or-leave-’em, they’re great sheep attitude, was the real deciding factor.  Soon the five ewes were mine.

The loading procedure was…enlightening.  Haltered sheep which are not halter trained can be interesting to handle.  Try convincing a madly writhing sheep to jump half a metre onto the deck of  a trailer, with the door mostly closed to prevent previously loaded guests from streaking away to freedom, and you’ll know what I mean.   You get quite an appreciation of how heavy a full grown ewe actually is, especially when she decides immobility is the ultimate Sheep Transport Deterrent and simply curls her legs up underneath her and will go no further. After the cardio workout of loading them, I was a bit jittery about what might occur when I finally backed down the driveway of Horse Drawn Farms.  After all, I was bringing them from sheep Fort Knox with five foot wire mesh perimetre fencing to a horse empire with only smooth wooden boards nailed up at polite distances.  But I needn’t have worried.  Although I  plugged up the avenues of escape with various pieces of farm equipment–a wheelbarrow to block off the foot path, my truck turned sideways in the driveway and old pallets standing on end to guard the riding arena–once those sheep heard grain rattle in a bucket, they were on me like a bee on sugar.  I moved them to their pen in a calm bliss and watched in delight as they hoovered up their feed in quick sheep fashion, heads shooting up here and there to examine me.

Welcome home, girls.  We will need to do something about those coats.

Horse Drawn Farms gets a little more farmy.

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