Let me take you back to a day I’ll never forget—the day our first sheep arrived at the farm. I’d prepared for weeks. I’d read every book, studied all the advice, and triple-checked everything to make sure I was ready. I had their feed lined up, gates installed, and every possible escape route sealed tighter than a drum. Still, as the trailer rumbled down the driveway, I felt a knot of worry in my stomach.
The truck driver must’ve thought I was a bit over the top. I was standing there, giving her strict instructions on how to back up as close to the barn as humanly possible. “No gaps!” I kept saying, certain that one rogue ewe was going to bolt across the field the moment she had the chance. I remember thinking, "If one of them gets away, I’ll never see her again!"
So, there I was, cautiously herding them off the truck, practically holding my breath. Every gate was closed, every angle checked, and every sheep accounted for. But you know what? All that stress, all those precautions… they were unnecessary. Turns out, sheep have a pretty simple goal: they want to stay together. As long as they’re with their herd, they’re happy.
Fast forward a few years to just a few days ago. I was heading out to the pasture, about to load up some hay feeders for my original “old girls”—about 20 of them. Normally, I’d go through this whole process of keeping them penned off to one side, making sure no one could slip out. But this time, I thought, "Eh, they won’t go far." The other groups were penned up around the farm to prevent mixing, so I figured the risk was low.
I opened the gate wide, hopped on the skid steer, and went about my business. Sure enough, when I came back with the hay bale, the ewes had wandered out. But instead of panicking like I would have that first day, I just smiled and carried on. I knew they weren’t going to stray too far from their friends.
After I parked the skid steer, I found them inside the main barn, happily nibbling on breakfast in the feed alley from the people side of the fence. A few had even strolled over to the lamb barn to see what the young ones were having. But still, no stress. I called to them, clapped my hands a few times, and watched as they trotted back out, gathering their friends along the way. Within minutes, they were all back in the pasture, content as ever.
I’m sharing this little tale for a few reasons. First, sometimes the things that seem like a big deal really aren’t. I spent so much time back then worrying about a runaway sheep, and now it’s no concern at all. Second, it made me reflect on the comfort that comes from having support. It’s bred into sheep, and I think it’s bred into people too.
Farmer Rod
Picture of New Barn the Day we got the sheep.