Prairie View

Friday, September 19, 2008

Willard Took a Market Lamb

The title works well sung to the tune of "Mary Had a Little Lamb."

Willard took a market lamb, market lamb, market lamb.
Willard took a market lamb,
'Twas good to see it go.

It happened tonight when the lonely only lamb in this year's crop (I keep only one ewe and one ram year round.) got loaded onto a trailer in preparation for the sheep sale tomorrow in town. Willard has faithfully hauled my few lambs to town, often along with his, when I wanted to sell them.

This year's lamb loading project was less smooth and orderly than most. I should have recognized the omen when Hiromi and I had a very long, frustrating, and unproductive conversation at the supper table early in the week about what should be done right then to facilitate the loading process at the end of the week.

Hiromi usually feeds the sheep, so I suggested that maybe it would be good if he started feeding them inside the dog kennel where their shelter is, and where they could be confined easily, rather than right across the fence from where he keeps their grain barrel. The across-the-fence spot is within a large grazing area, and we couldn't capture the sheep easily there for loading. My plan was to get them used to going into the kennel for grain so that on loading day they would go there as usual and then I would quietly shut the gates and all would be well.

Hiromi thought I was saying they should be confined in the kennel all week, and so he argued against what he thought was a very silly idea. Of course it was silly and I would not have dreamed of suggesting it. This was not clear to Hiromi, however, and he kept right on trying to show me the error of my ways and I kept right on telling him what I really meant, and the conversation went from bad to worse. Joel rolled his eyes and Victor giggled and I sighed patiently but raised my voice impatiently and Hiromi looked puzzled, and we finally got everything cleared up and went back to eating our supper.

Tonight Hiromi was still gone when Willard arrived, so I went out to lure the sheep into the kennel by feeding them. I was pretty sure it would work because they had begged me for grain earlier when I was outside. I really didn't want to pen them up early because I thought I would need to lure them onto the trailer with grain--something that was unlikely to work if they had their fill earlier.

In hindsight, it would have been far better to do the feeding and catching early because Willard's plan was to manhandle the lamb onto the trailer. That possibility had occurred to me but I thought it would be presumptuous to assume that he would want to do that. Other years, we'd set up panels to guide them and then I had simply walked onto the trailer with the feed pan and they had all followed me. Then we sorted out and released the ones that were to stay behind.

I began to realize that not all had gone according to plan when I arrived at the fence and saw the feed pan next to the fence on the other side. Hmmm. I thought Hiromi was going to be feeding them inside the kennel this week. . . . But I got grain and carried it and the pan inside the kennel. The sheep followed me eagerly and set about eating. Then I went to close the two gates into the kennel.

Weeds had grown tall in the gate-swing area, and it was hard to swing the gates across them to close the openings. The commotion from trying to close the first gate spooked two of the sheep, and they dashed out of the pen through the other opening and hightailed it for distant parts. Mara, the first sheep I owned and the tamest one, stood there placidly and kept on eating grain. At that point Hiromi arrived home and came over to help.

"I thought you were going to feed them inside the kennel this week," I said, rather undiplomatically.

"I forgot."

"Let's leave this gate closed and try to get them to come back through that gate they escaped from," I went on.

He walked through the kennel into the grazing area and made inviting noises. The errant sheep noticed and were interested, but very wary. Eventually, however, they both came into the kennel and ate grain until Willard tried to catch the lamb by a hind leg. Then they beelined for the gate Hiromi had just closed--rather poorly, as became apparent when the smaller lamb dashed through it by ducking into the space where the tall weeds kept the gate from fitting snugly against the post. So now they were doubly wary and farther away from the kennel than ever.

"Call them," Hiromi urged me. So I did my sing-song Heeeere lammy, lammy, lammEE call. They anwered me every time, but kept their distance.

"Maybe you'd better go pick up Arlyn's lambs and come back later for this one," I finally suggested to Willard. So Willard left with Victor to help him load the lambs Arlyn was sending along.

"You're the one that usually feeds them," I told Hiromi. "Why don't you walk toward them with the feed pan until they see what you've got, and they'll probably follow you right back into the pen."

Before they were a quarter mile down the road, Hiromi had led the straying sheep into the kennel and gotten the door closed behind them. He left them there eating grain and we both went to the house.

Some time later Victor and Willard showed up at the house with the lamb already loaded into the trailer. Things had gone well this time.

Hiromi is a smart man. I am not a man and not as smart, but I am better than he is at thinking like a sheep. It's a small talent, to be sure, but if it were possible, I would be willing to share what I've got with anyone who lives here and would be interested. Lowered stress levels at lamb shipping time would make it worthwhile for everyone.

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