Oct 18 2016
Remember last month, when I wrote that our sheep are defying the odds by refusing to die? And I added: check next week to see if I jinxed them.
Well, I should have written, “check next month.” Because it happened: I jinxed the sheep.
One in particular.
From a distance, I half-hoped that she was just dozing like a dog, wedged against the shed. But when I approached and only 4 scattered, there was little doubt.
It was bound to happen. At least three of the ewes were mature when we acquired the herd 8 years ago. (We started with 6; one died in the first year.) Sheep live 10 to 12 years, but one Katahdin sheep site estimates the lifespan at 7 to 12 years.
So she had a good life… aside from being periodically terrorized by Maisie’s high-speed herding style.
And there was that one experiment with mutton busting in 2012.
But the kid fared far worse than the sheep.
If anything, life has been too good for our flock; they’re all in the 200 pound range and they do not hesitate to throw their weight around when we try to minister care: deworming and hoof trimming.
I will spare you the unsavory details of moving and disposing of a dead, bloated, 200+ pound sheep. I’ll just say that it was smelly and physically challenging. And Martin and I wanted to burn our clothes afterward.
So if it’s possible to retract a jinx, I’d like that option, please.
The final four are welcome to stick around awhile longer.