Ah, the sights and sounds of fall...pretty, crunchy leaves, pumpkins glowing, crisp air to breathe, and the chortling tones of a 300# ram chasing the ewes in the front pasture...
Last night I separated out the 5 yearling ewes who would get to sit out of this year's breeding. "There's plenty of time to get pregnant, enjoy your unencumbered youth and good figures," I told them as I put them in the stall next to their own mothers. I hate the separation stage. This year it went remarkably well. Of the five young ewes, I have twin daughters of Coral Bell, Blue and Honey, who show great promise of being calm leaders of their mini flock. Any shepherd will tell you, a group of youngsters without the head ewe can act downright...well, stupid. But this group tendered up well, and Blue has the calmness of her mother and grandmother Rosie.
As the newly separated ewes ate their dinners, I went to stage two - separating My. T out from his flock of rams. I decided to only breed Mr. T, and then next year both T. and Joe Pye will be bred. I haven't told Joe Pye he's not on this year's schedule, but I suppose he's figured it out by now. He runs in the same pasture with Stella and Iris the goats, and as horrible as some of my tender readers might think, I know he's getting some action of his own. But don't fret, Stella and Iris hold their own, and even flirt with him when in season.So I put Mr. T in the secure stall next to his ladies in waiting last nite, not wanting to throw him in all at once for what would be a party something like the playboy mansion before even herpes became an epidemic. Mr. T decided that the 6 foot high window was not that far off the ground, and if it got him to his ladies a little faster, well, it was worth trying to jump for it. I hammered up some temporary boards to keep the fellow a bachelor one more night.
Mr. T, like most rams, lives for two things. Food and procreating. That is his purpose and he does it very well. When I let him out this morning for his first day of party down time, he wasn't sure what he should do first - eat breakfast or get right to business. He decided to multi task. Why postpone a good time when you can do it while stuffing yourself at the same time? He spent much of the first 20 minutes or so chortling [ a definite turn on] and walking quickly from ewe to ewe with his head in a slightly lowered position [as in photo], lips curled up and quivering. I won't get any more graphic, but let's just say he got his mojo working.
Each time I looked out today at the front pasture, I saw T chasing after one or another ewe, a quick mount, and then right back to eating. Two or three bites, then rush off to another encounter. As Steve Martin's character would say, "I'm just a wild and crazy guy."
