It’s that time of year. The lambs are growing up, their fleeces are getting thicker and more unwieldy, so they have to be removed (the fleeces not the sheepses). Simon the fence (not that sort!) agreed to do the task, which is well beyond us. The anatomy of a sheep is not our strongest point, and there are various appendages that they would like intact after the event.
Utter confusion reigns afterwards. The donks are frightened that they’re next, they don’t understand wha you these “new things” are, and chase them round the paddock. The “things” walk with bowed legs just as they walked with the fleeces on, and almost don’t recognise each other. Peep has a post-op nick (no problem), but otherwise they are grateful to be rid of their blankets.
Now, what to do with the fleeces!
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