It’s that time of year – shearing.
I brought the sheep all inside this morning for their breakfast and shut the door! They knew something was up.
First up was ‘Ster, who behaved, I am ashamed to say, abominably. Unhelpful wriggling every minute. Terrible.
Next up was ‘Bert who was better. I trimmed his errant horn and there was blood.
Then it was Lambie who had his “carpet quality” fleece expertly sheared off.
Lambie’s theory was to smile in a winning fashion in the hope it would all be over quickly. Rather like the dentist.
After that, Edna was sheared and she was such a good girl. What a lady. An example to us all.
And last up was Madge, who wasn’t sheared but was roo’ed instead – just the last bit around her neck.
Everyone was drenched and had their teeth and feet looked at too. Is it me, or has Lambie got more spots this year?
Finished, they all went outside and the Boyzens had their usual post-shearing arguments. This year it was Lambie being a prat to ‘Bert.
They all look *** cough *** very well *** cough *** (fat, some might say!)
Anyway, I’m glad it’s been done. Not sure what I shall do with their fleeces. If anyone is interested, please get in touch. All pure Shetland – moorit, katmoget, flekkit and white.
They seem much happier and cooller too. Little Missy ran around for a short time shouting for her mother, Edna, who was standing next to her. She has shut-up now and I saw her having her milk so she’s obviously got the plot again.
So that’s that for another year – the blood is from ‘Bert’s trimmed horn.
Now who’s going to mention the diet to Lambie? I don’t dare.