Definitely the silly season for animals. With three young wethers just recently separated from their mothers and trying to return, one more feeder pig who has to put on another twenty pounds in two weeks to meet the target weight of about 225, ewes who keep getting in the duck's stall in the barn or hop their fence to get apples, and a raunchy old ram who patrols the fence line of his pen like a North Korean on the DMZ, everyone is antsy and wants to be elsewhere, preferably in someone else's pen.
This too shall pass, though. The three lambs will go Sunday and I may take the pig too if I think she's big enough. That will calm things down. I'm hoping the ducks will go soon, back from whence they came, a student's private project. The apples will all get eaten or rot. And the ewes will get bred and stop coming into heat.
There's the small matter of an outside ram who has to come visit and breed the three daughter ewes. We'll need the pig gone for that, so we can use the pig sty for a ram pen. It's the best high security space we have, and this guy is reported to be big and a bit of a knucklehead. I hope the young ewes like him. The old ones will go, as they've always gone, with our own ram, Abraram, but he's the father of Molly, Maggie and Nellie, so they need to meet this new guy.
Snorri is his name, named for a Newfoundland viking.
Like I said, a knucklehead.