Drama in the Snow

As I tiptoed through the barn checking on everyone I marvelled at how the lambs from last year are still teamed up with their moms. These bonds last forever. Most people sell off the young, or the moms, and family ties are broken. I keep my sheep and goats forever and the family units remain intact. I walked gently through all the little groups and made my way out to see how much of the 8 round bales are remaining. A round bale allows the shepherd to have some time off from climbing up into the hay mow and slinging bales. The sheep can graze continuously, and they surely do just that. I only have one bale left. 8 didn't last a week. I took a picture of the snowy scene and heard a pitiful cry. Looked around and didn't see anything wrong. Where was it coming from? Another cry and I saw it was coming from a mound in the snow. Little Sidewinder was lying in the snow, covered with ice! I grabbed her horns, what horns she has, and pulled her up only to find she wouldn't budge. She was hopelessly tangled in baling twine! The orange string had wrapped around her leg like a snare and she had become entangled all over her body. The trashing she must have done to get herself in this mess! I had violated my rule to carry a pair of scissors around with me everywhere. Years ago I heard a story about a toddler who was strangled to death my his hood cord on an escalator, and always carried a little pair of Fiskars after that. I searched the pockets of my coat, nothing. Sidewinder was screaming for me to let her loose. I tiptoed back through the mass of bodies lying prone in the barn to get my scissors, and hurried back. It took quite a bit of snipping to cut her loose. I dragged her back in the barn. Now, if I had a good picture of Sidewinder you would see that she is a tiny little goat, born with a twisted spine. She walks funny, kind of sideways, hence the name Sidewinder. It seemed a double tragedy that this spunky little handicapped goat would suffer all night, frozen to the ground. I put her in a lambing pen and ran to get her some warm water with molasses melted in it. I squirted a couple of cups in her mouth and made sure she swallowed. She protested enough to make me feel like she's going to be okay. I made a tent of sweet smelling hay flakes around her and left her, munching on the grass while still too frozen to get up. I think she will be fine. I will continue to check outside, all around the barn. And I will continue picking up all the baling twine I can find. It's very annoying to have to deal with all those strings, but if not picked up an animal can eat it, or get tangled in it, or I will trip on it. Just one of those many things a shepherd must constantly be aware of. No wonder Jesus is portrayed as a shepherd (when he was indeed a carpenter). A shepherd is always watching out for her flock, always there to save the errant sheep or goat from harm, and always sad when something terrible happens, and happy when they are happy. Merry Christmas shepherds and flocks everywhere!