Names have been changed to protect the embarrassed.We’d arranged for Mr Snip (not his real name, but surprisingly close) to come and shear the sheep this morning. Mr Kimi had rigged up stockyards that we thought would do the job. A short while before Mr Snip was expected, we moved the sheep. This went smoothly enough to give us a false sense of security: the sheep walked the now-familiar track from the orchard to the lower paddock, into the yards (one of them made a brief break for freedom, then couldn’t cope and demanded to be let into the yards), and we slammed the gate shut feeling far too pleased with ourselves.
That’s when we found that there’s a big difference between the strength of fence required to keep sheep in a paddock that they’re happy enough to be in anyway, and that required in a small yard when they catch on that Something Is Up. First one, then two, then three, then all four flung themselves at our makeshift fence until they had broken through it. They ran off into the paddock and looked at us in a sarcastic manner.
Panic stations! We phoned Mr Snip and left a message to tell him there might be A Problem. Then we ran around like a pair of mad wombats and did some rapid improvements to the stockyards, using a miscellaneous assortment of scrap timber. When we’d finished, we had a very disreputable set of yards, but they did look sturdy.
And then we tried to persuade the sheep into them. They would not have a bar of it. No way. We all wandered about all over the paddock, but no progress had been made by the time Mr Snip arrived.
Fortunately Mr Snip had brought a sheepdog. He set up some interlinking lengths of metal fence, and sent the dog out to do her work.
A skilled sheepdog is an amazing thing to see in action. She didn’t bark; she just stared the sheep down through force of will. In less than five minutes she had the sheep in the metal yards.
And then one of them took a mighty leap, and jumped right over the fence.
We all stood and looked stupidly in the direction it’d disappeared. Well, all except the dog, who ran after it. She found it in the orchard, and started herded it back towards the yards. All was going well until the sheep decided it just couldn’t cope with this and bolted for the bush. The dog went after her, and disappeared for long enough for Mr Snip to get on and shear the other three, check their feet, worm them, and generally do a good job.
The dog eventually came back, looking guiltily defeated. The sheep has not been seen since. We suspect she got through the boundary fence and has gone to live on the large farm next door, probably under an assumed name.
Sheep are such easy creatures to keep.
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