Sad Little Boys

The rams and ram lambs are coming out of the field today. I pray I caught them in time. The temps are dipping and the hormones will surely be revving up. I have two mature rams including Zack, the sweet-tempered Border Leicester ram purchased in Maryland. He is so docile I constantly break the shepherd's rule to never, ever turn your back on a ram. The other guy, Othello, is a lovely black Merino/Bluefaced Leicester cross who is also a real sweetie with a big, chunky build and thick fleece. I haven't noticed any mating behavior at all. No sniffing of back ends, pushing and snortling at the ewes, etc., but one can't be too careful. The little boys, including Dexter, son of Dolly, must come out too. There will be a good bit of whining and complaining. The boys are still nursing from their adoring mothers, but the time will come, shortly, when those hormones will tell them that even the moms are fair game for some romance. Well, there is very little romance about it. I'll never forget the first time I saw a ram mount a ewe. It was over in a second. Jump up, jump off, that's it. You can hardly tell anything happened. Dexter is very attached to Dolly. They are never far apart. Spikey is always with Monkey and they are the cutest pair with their blue eyes and black mohair. If you recall from an earlier post, Spikey is the survivor of twins. I should say, the chosen survivor because Monkey has a dark side - she has given birth to twins the last two years and has killed, or ignored to the point of death, one of her twins. Sadly, last year the dead twin was a lovely red doeling. Maggie was not amused. I tried to forgive her, for Monkey was also the surviving twin herself. Celeste, Monkey's mom, did the same thing. Interesting genetics there. Anyway, Dexter, Spikey, Ray Davies, and another couple of lambs sporting a scrotum will be removed to the ram pen. Fortunately I have the newly delivered hay to toss out the upstairs barn window to them. I'll have to run a hose out there, adding one more chore to the list. I have some very nice lambs I managed to castrate in hopes those black fleeces would grow as thick and lustrous as the baby coats indicated. One can only hope. I'm hoping for zero population growth this year, and cold winter nights with Maggie snug inside on the sofa in front of the wood stove, covered in quilts and dogs, with the peace of mind that comes with no lambsicles being dropped in the barn while she sleeps.