Today Lambie is modelling this fashion.

Last night we had a bit of a fracas.

I found ‘Bert one morning with blood dripping down his head and his right horn at a very odd angle.  He was agitated but not letting me near him so I left out some TurmerAid. It took the edge of his misery.

I was hoping the horn would drop off by itself but, after a few days, ‘Bert suddenly became even more miserable – running around with his head on the ground.  I wondered if it was causing him pain by growing into his head.  So I asked our shearer to pop by on his way home.  The sheep were in a small paddock and I thought easy to catch (ha-bloody-ha!)

Once we had failed at catching ‘Bert, I suggested maybe we would have more success with my shearer’s experienced and well-trained sheepdog in the paddock with us to herd the boys into a corner where we could then catch ‘Bert and sort out his horn.

And with that Lambie went mad doing the Wall of Death (and we weren’t even after him), hurling himself at wire fences, getting stuck and in the kind of panic I have never seen.  We just stood there and watched him.  The dog sat on the ground doing nothing, absolutely nothing.  On the upside (only one), we could see ‘Bert’s horn was flapping about so we know it is not causing pain and will fall off soon.

So we decided to leave well alone.

My shearer and his dog quickly left and I tried to talk to the now-hysterical Lambie or at least get near him to spray his self-inficted wounds with antibiotic spray. I lured him into my shed and got him.  It had to be done.

Today Lambie is calmer and I reminded everyone that they had been brought up with dogs and no one had been chasing, just herding.  There is a huge difference.

I have to wonder what went through Lambie’s pea-like brain.