When Rams Go Rogue - A Story of Unwarranted Courage

Hello, How's your day going?

Ever pondered the peculiar naming of a sweater? Is it because it has an uncanny ability to make you break a sweat? Or is it that sweat is called so because it's the inevitable outcome of donning a sweater? I know, I'm a touch eccentric, but we've been sharing our thoughts here for a while, so you're probably getting used to my quirky musings, right? 😄

Now, to pick up where we left off last week - did Anne and I manage to squeeze in a getaway? Well, sort of. We settled for a string of "Day-cations" instead of a full-blown vacation. With so much happening around the farm, nothing beats the comfort of your own bed after a day of adventure, right?

And here's the thrilling highlight of our week. Monday came with a task involving our sheep - we needed to separate our rams from the group of ewes they're currently with. Time was ticking, as these lambs are due in the first few weeks of January, and any delay risks colder temperatures during lambing. But, you see, it was our first attempt at taking it easy, so we decided to tackle this task later in the day, after a bit of fun.

We had some local deliveries on our to-do list and needed to drop off orders at Purolator just before 6 PM. So, we decided to get our chores done a tad earlier and treated ourselves to a delightful dinner out. There was a new Indian restaurant in town, and naturally, we both opted for lamb dishes. We each had a beer, and feeling a bit entitled to this mini-getaway, I even indulged in a second one (and this will become relevant in a few moments). It was a splendid meal, and after a bit of a sales pitch from me, trying to convince the restaurant owner to feature our lamb meat, we figured it was time to head home and complete our sheep-related mission.

Usually, to separate the four rams from the group, we set up a series of gates and chutes to guide all the animals through and divert the rams to their designated area. As you can imagine, this process requires some time and effort to set up properly. But wait, it's now 7:30 PM, and I've had a couple of beers. Here's where my brilliant idea emerged - why do all the heavy lifting? Anne was there to assist; she could operate one gate, and I would venture into the pens to wrangle the rams! What could possibly go wrong? Well, as you might've guessed, plenty could go wrong.

So, I grabbed a halter for one of the rams, particularly a show lamb who'd made quite a name for himself at the Royal Winter Fair (the talk of the town, I tell you!). He walked gracefully on his halter down and out of the pen, and to my surprise, the other three rams followed suit. Success seemed effortless, and I was riding high on it! Now, all that remained was to guide a couple of ewes, who had mistakenly tagged along with the rams, back to their own space. I removed the halter from the lead ram and leaned over to collect a ewe. Just then, I heard Anne's gentle voice saying, "NO!" And in almost the same instant, I found myself soaring through the air, heading straight for a wooden gate, forehead first.

Yes, one of the rams had decided to give me a taste of his ram-like tendencies. So, was he a ram because he is a ram, or did he become a ram by "ramming" me? Anyway, let me continue. Indeed, this is the way of rams, and I should have known better than to place myself in that particular situation. It's simply their nature, and I'm well aware of it. Anne was genuinely concerned about whether I'd manage to get back on my feet, and when I finally did, my forehead was leaking.

In any case, I hold no grudges against my ram colleagues. Down below, you'll find a snapshot from this morning of us engaging in a lively chat about the incident. 🐏😅

Your Farmer
Rod Ewing
Ewing Family Farm
When Rams Go Rogue - A Story of Unwarranted Courage
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