Raising sheep wasn’t really part of the plan

After living here in Beryl since August 2005, the “girls” finally began meeting some of our neighbors. One of those neighbors, Dixie, stopped by to introduce herself one spring morning. She mentioned that she was helping one of the local sheep farms with their lambing season.

Cindy told her that Mom would be totally enthralled to see some little newborn lambs. Little did she know about what she’d just said.

Later that afternoon, Dixie returned, with a little white bundle of joy. What she said was… “Here’s your first lamb. He really needs a mother. Take him, love him, feed him. I gotta get back to work.” This poor little fellow was weak, and had been rejected by his mother.

You gotta know, Mom absolutely fell in love with the little guy and named him “Taco”. I have no idea how she came up with that name, and I’m not asking, either. Since they already had dogs (hence dog crates), it was easy to set up a crate for Taco to use while he lived in the house.

Great idea, but nobody could believe how he missed his mother. He “ma-a-a-a-a-ed” for his mama all night long, keeping everyone, including the dogs, awake.

So, Mom felt the best thing to do, would be for her to become “his mother”. Each night, Mom would get a couple of clean towels and swathe Taco like a baby. She would then put him in her bed under the covers to keep him content. Peace and quiet returned to the household.

Not long after that, Dixie stopped by with two more little “dogies”, (that’s Southern Utah-speak for “bummer lambs”). These two were in pretty good shape, having been separated from their mothers after a couple of days. Bummers are lambs that “lose” their mothers, and then go around bumming milk from all the other ewes.

Since it was still quite cold and windy, the three little guys were allowed to live in the backyard in a large dog kennel that was well wrapped with an old Hertz moving blanket. They built a bit of of a fence to give the lambs a way to get relief from the big dogs, each of whom wanted to raise the little guys.

Missi, the old Chocolate Lab, was the pack matriarch. At nearly 14, she was losing both her hearing and sight. Mindy, the Black Lab, loved to herd the little lambs. Koda, the Shepherd/Siberian Husky thought they were playmates. Then there was Coco, a Chocolate Lab/Red Bone Hound cross. She didn’t know what to make of these lambs, but found it hilarious to continually jump into the lamb pen.

This “back yard” was really a neglected space enclosed by a 6′ high concrete block wall. The dogs considered it their space to do whatever they wanted. There were high weeds, and lots of junk to play with. These lambs were encroaching in their space.

Just because they suddenly had a few lambs didn’t mean they knew squat about raising them. One thing though, they provided hours of entertainment, as they played with the dogs.

After a couple of months, it was time to create a dedicated “lamb pen”.

North of the house, about 150 feet, there was an old chain link fence. One section ran about 70′ and then there was a break (for a drive), and more chainlink for about 12 feet to the fence line that runs along the road. There was also a run of field fencing going north from the west end of the chainlink fence.

The southwest corner looked like a pretty good place for a lamb pen. It wouldn’t take much to fence off the other two sides.

Cindy and Bev were working for a “gentleman farmer”. They were helping him clear and clean up an old homestead. This guy was pretty good about letting them take old fencing they found. Most of it was pretty rusty and in poor shape. He also had a big wooden box which had contained irrigation parts.

They took that big box (about 6′x4′x2′) and turned it upside down. Then they cut a door into one end, so the lambs could get in and bed down out of the elements. By using old pieces of rebar they found laying around the property, they were able to rig up a form of fencing that contained the little lambs.

The next step was to get the lambs from the backyard to the new lamb pen… a distance of about 500 feet. Now, while these lambs knew the house, the backyard, maybe even the walkway down the north side of the garage, they had no concept of “open land”.

What’s worse, Cindy and Bev weren’t skilled sheepherders.

These little lambs would come when called while they were in the backyard. But, would they continue to do that when there were “no walls, no fences”? Only one way to find out.

After making sure the new pen was ready and the “gate” was open, Bev and Cindy began the great adventure. First get the little lambs down the confining north side walkway along the garage, and through the first chainlink gate.

What they didn’t know, was how the lambs would react to the confining space, the shade, and the prospect of wide open land on the other side of that first gate.

Game on!

Once the girls realized the lambs weren’t going to come when called, they took the chance and got behind the lambs. Well, let’s just say the lambs were much quicker than either Bev or Cindy.

Once they tasted their freedom, it was time to investigate. “Yep, the lawn tastes great. Oh, you don’t want me to eat the lawn? What do you mean I have to go that way? Wait… I have to pee!”

Good thing that chainlink fence was there. At least once the lambs were headed in the right direction, it was a matter of being patient (while the sheep nibbled on tumbleweed) and vigilant (in case something looked better a few yards away). The fence at least created a boundary that helped contain the little lambs.

Now, the dogs had been left in the backyard, since none were proven “farm dogs” or “herders”. No since complicating matters. The three lambs were going to keep Bev and Cindy more than busy.

You know, it’s much easier to move a flock of 20 sheep than it is to move three little lambs. These little guys had no concept of “flock”. All they knew was there were new smells, new tastes, new feel under their feet, new shadows to jump, and no walls!

After about an hour of the sheep roundup, the little lambs were safely ensconced in their new pen. Not bad, no broken bones, no turned ankles, no lost sheep… just a few swear words, and the need for a cold beer to celebrate their first herding experience.

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