The Boyzenberries are all hot and cross. They don’t want to talk much, but just want me to scratch them.

They flop about and sit down a lot.

I don’t blame them.

Which end is which?  It’s hard to tell.

Each Boyzen is carrying around the equivalent of 3kg’s worth of wool.

And ‘Ster maybe 3.5kg.  Poor love.  He is suffering now.

Of course, Lambie’s is “carpet quality” but it still counts as weight and he is still very grumpy.

Grumpy, at the moment, is what he does best.

I am now known as “The Muzzah who scratches itchy sheep”.  It’s my job.

I think the Boyzenberries are all very jealous of the Girlzenberries who are “rooing” their wool and will probably not need shearing.  You can literally just pick the fleece off them or let it drop on its own.

Meanwhile, Little Herself – aka Missy is all happy, happy, happy.  She is definitely happy.

A glass half full kinda sheep.

She also looks very like her mother.  The same piercing eyes and expression of complete relaxation around people.

And then there are her Nuncle Boyzens.

(and yes, I prayed Lambie didn’t bunt her into the stream below – he definitely thought about it!)

And so I have a flock, my own little flock of sheep.  It makes my heart smile.

Well, almost.  There’s always one and that would be Madge.  She has to be different.

Yay, though.

When we led the girls back to the field yesterday, I had a quick chat with the other inhabitants.

Floss had been kind and kept some carrots back for them – Lilja and Sóley had not been allowed to scoff the lot – and she went around distributing fairly.

Everyone has just about lost their winter coat now.

All except Newt and Sóley.  They are revolting, still.

Storm had his summer race-horse body.  He looked very smug.

Poor little Newt.  He hates the clags that are under his leg-pits so I spent a few minutes removing the ones that would easily pull off and promising to come back with sharp scissors to get the others.  He was very grateful and stood patiently for me.  Sóley is less patient and will only stand me taking them off for so long.  I usually brush her.

The orchids are out now.  They grow everywhere.  All over the fields.

A rainy morning, but I gathered the troops and we drove the horse-van over to work with Lilja and Sóley-the-Scruffy.

I especifically wanted Daisy to work with Lilja as the last time I led her it was very obvious her leading skills left a lot to be desired.

We had parked in a quiet place and put two bowls of carrots – one inside and one on the ramp.  Daisy and Lilja walked straight in.

While Sóley considered her options.

She could see Lilja eating her carrots and she could also see her own bowl of carrots but there was this ramp thing to be negotiated …….

Lilja quickly finished her own carrots and then started on Sóley’s bowl!

Oh, how rude!  Sóley could not bear this and worse, Lilja was really enjoying her bowl of carrots!

Oooh, she wanted her carrots and she couldn’t quite reach them and Lilja was going to nom the lot if she didn’t act quickly.

So Sóley took a deep breath and put her front hooves on the van ramp.

Heaps of praise and a top up of more carrots as a reward – and, then there was  even the hint of a back hoof too!

This was just what we wanted and we didn’t ask for anything more from Sóley.

Afterwards, Daisy and Flossie led the girls back to their field, where they live with the Minions (my rescue Shetland ponies).

All the way, Daisy worked with Lilja, asking her to walk nicely and not drag her down the road and field (like she had with me).

And to be fair, Lilja listened and learned to Daisy (and so did I so I can continue her training in the same way).

So that was all good. Mission accomplished.  I am pleased.

I have been asking myself, these past few days, what makes Missy so nice and sweet and loving.

Is it nature (ie her mother, Edna, is sweetheart and obviously a caddy) or nurture (I have spent most days going to talk and spend time with wee Missy).

A joy, never a chore and wee Missy is not so wee anymore. Almost a sheep size now.

I don’t know the answer. It goes round and round my head.  Madge, who may or may not be (I think she is) Edna’s daughter as they arrived as a pair, is still unapproachable and pretty crazy. She will only be caught by rugby tackle and no amount of being nice and biscuits will tame her.

And then Puzzah (Lambie’s dad), who came to us as a working entire ram, had always been a generous, kind soul – this photo was taken when he first arrived looking perhaps not his best.  He was never deliberately tamed down.  Just was like that because he was.  It was his nature to be calm.  And then Lambie, who was mine from Day 1, is a complete hysterical tit given any chance at all!

So, I don’t know.  Are some sheep born nice and accepting of folk or does regular handling them make them so?

Answers on a postcard, please x

A certain little Ginja-Ninja (aka Efstur) came in yesterday with a blood stripe down his front near fore (left leg to you and me) and yes, I had to look up the correct terminology so I could pretend I actually knew!

So we cleaned up the trail of seepage (a gross word on a par with “moist”!), could not find where it came from and sprayed the area with antibiotic spray in a hopeful fashion. We also felt each leg and decided the injured one was very slightly hotter than the other.

The treatment prescribed was TurmerAid from The Golden Paste Company as turmeric is an anti-inflammatory, an effective analgesia and has mild antimicrobial properties and this will obviously make everything right.

Efstur happily guzzled it all down.  You can actually feed this stuff without a mix – they love it.  Haakon eats his every morning in a handful.

And today?  Well the mild heat has gone, the wound is clean (still can’t find it) and Efstur is still sound and very happy to have another scoopful of TurmerAid in his daily feed.

I know I rave about TurmerAid but I sincerely believe in it and feed it daily to:-

Haakon (arthritis),
Klængur (stiff back end, now flying along),
Kappi (Daisy says he takes longer to warm-up)
and obviously Lambie with his bone-on-bone arthritis.
BeAnne has the dog version and trots along, a-buggering off happily and
I take the human version because I wake up barely being able to move.

You may have guessed. I am a huge fan.