Atypical Friday

Not a typical, but atypical.  I know of no one else who has ever spent a Friday this way.

As I walked up behind the barn I saw hubby's car.  He was home early.  I saw him and called out to him.  "Get your rifle, Honey."  He could see I had mine.  I'd been out for an hour and finally found the carcass.  The sheep 'notified' me when I saw them rushing around the barn, herded in tightly, heads and ears up, eyes half looking behind them.

I'd been in to town earlier and so my rifle was locked up tight.  I ripped through the procedure to get it out, grabbed the ammunition, a coat, hat and jumped into the easy to don rain boots.  I tried counting the sheep but they were jittery and jambed together.  It's easier to count them when they are spread out.  I counted twenty-six three times and did not want to believe that one was missing.  After all, I often had to count three times before I actually got twenty-seven. 

Millie had come into the field with me.  Only a half hour before she and Ruby and I had been out with the sheep for over an hour.  We had been exploring the bush alongside the field.  I had collected some old glass bottles.... 

Millie went right up to the sheep and nuzzled their faces, a behaviour I had not yet seen.  I had not seen Millie try to get this close to a sheep nor had I seen the sheep allow her to get that close.  They were not feeling good and Millie knew something big was up.  Since Ruby's arrival the sheep have been more accepting of Millie.  Unlike Ruby - I refer to her as their 'dog-thing' - who is full of puppy playfullness, Millie is calm and clearly is trying to make them safe as she heads out to the field first thing each morning.  Millie is once again trying to befriend the sheep but they are not the sheep with whom she was once best buddies.  It remains confusing for Millie and as much as Ruby is very grounded at the barn, Millie avoids going into the Big Barn.

Together hubby and I walked out to the field and surveyed the scene.  I had brought my camera to take photos of the carcass.  The sheep were grazing restlessly nearby.  They had followed me out the second time I went out to search. 

At first I did a quick check of the field.  I could see neither a carcass or coyote in the field.  I went back to the barn and counted sheep again.  I counted fourteen ewes and thirteen lambs.  Clearly, a lamb was missing.  I made a mental note of my favourites and they all seemed to be present.  I know, I shouldn't have favourites....  Now I knew I had to find the missing lamb.  I searched the entire field edge, looking closely into the brush.  At the very end of my search, there it was - a dead lamb with grass still in its mouth, chewing unfinished.  He was still warm.  I looked at my watch and sixty-five minutes had now passed since I first looked up from my desk and saw the frightened sheep at the barn.

Hubby was all decked out in his hunting clothes.  These allowed him to be camouflaged, warm and somewhat waterproof.  In addition I sprayed him down, including the soles of his feet, with a no-scent product to allow him to be less known to Mr. Coyote.  It was now about 3:15 pm; he'd gotten home early and was now at work in a different capacity.  I would not see him again until just before seven.  He lay in wait for Mr. Coyote to return to the carcass while I took the sheep back to the Front Field near the barn.

I spent an hour on the phone trying to figure out how to navigate the system(s) to get a Livestock Evaluator to accept my application for compensation for the coyote loss.  This was our fifth loss - plus a major and expensive injury - seventh attack, and tenth sighting.  Hearing them is in addition to these stats.  I could no longer go without compensation; I was losing too much money.  Dear reader I am sparing you the details of the challenge of navigating a contradictory government bureaucratic maze.  I managed to arrange for the Evaluator to come the next evening. 

The Friday evening barbecue plans were postponed.  I had put soup in a double boiler on low so it would be hot and ready whenever we wanted it.  I puttered around outside for the evening, awaiting hubby's return.  I was near the sheep and the dogs, observing behaviours and ensuring safety.  I cleared out a shed and set up for salting hides which I would retrieve from the butcher and then salt to preserve them until ready to ship to the tannery for finishing.  In addition I retrieved from the shed the heated buckets I would need when the freezing temperatures required them. I put up a few items for storage and in the process secured a few rodent passageways into the shed.

I was putting the sheep into the barn when hubby appeared at the back gate.  "I'll help you"  I called out.  It is very awkward to navigate the secured gate with a rifle in hand.  He was
cold and had had enough.  There was no longer sufficient light for the task at hand.  Together we lifted the heavy lamb into the wheelbarrow.  We put it in the big box stall in the Small Barn where it was safe from scavenging and so that the Evaluator could look at it the next day.

There was a fleeting visit by a coyote.  It quickly circled the carcass.  It was so quick that hubby does not recall seeing it's head or tail.  It seemed to be assessing the situation and the return of the entire family was a distinct possibility.

We were away the next day attending a prior commitment -  a gun course, my third one, all part of this new life punctuated with unwelcome visits by coyotes.  The sheep were not put out back but left in the Front Field.  Both Millie and Ruby are very attentive to the sheep when they are in this field.  When we got home I only had to count them once to get the right number, now twenty-six:  fourteen ewes and twelve lambs.

The compensation I will receive - providing all bureaucratic hoops are jumped - is far less than would have been earned had the male lamb lost instead gone to the butcher's next week.  As the Evaluator was leaving this evening he said he has been at one sheep farm seven times in two weeks for many losses, and the farmer has already shot two coyotes during that time.  This does put things into perspective.  Yet, it is such a shame to lose lambs in such a worthless way.  I feel very little control when these things happen. 

And, what a loss of a fine Friday night!