Getting to Pasture
Posted 5/8/2008 5:12pm by Eugene Wyatt.
Pillow to pillow, market day is 19 hours. Then Sunday wants to be a day off, but the pastures are growing and the grain bin was almost empty. This Sunday there was to be “no rest for the wicked,” I would have to work.
The sheep had to get to grass so I wouldn’t have to spend $1003.56 (what I spent 17 days ago) for another three tons (the minimum order) of the oat/corn/soy grain mix that I feed over the winter. Besides out of this month's cash flow, I needed to buy a larger market truck to get the garlic to market in July. Farmers are always dancing to these screeching fiddles of weather and money and this tune I know well. Sunday was to be long hours; Monday was to do what didn’t get done in order to get the sheep out that afternoon.
Before going to pasture, sheep must be dewormed with an anthelmintic to interrupt the vicious cycle of the deadly barber pole worm.
Life Cycle of Internal Parasites
Mature worms reside in the stomachs of sheep and shed eggs that reach the pasture through the feces. Other grazing sheep ingest the eggs or hatched larvae that mature in the sheep’s GI tract.
Symptoms:
• Weakness
• Loss of appetite
• Diarrhea
• Weight loss
• Change in wool condition
After Parasitic Diseases in Sheep from the Department of Animal Sciences, Purdue University
On Sunday we dewormed the flock; 400 sheep got a Sub-Q injection of Ivermectin and the 100 plus rams got their annual CD/T vaccination (against overeaters disease & tetanus) in addition to the anthelmintic. Then we put Electronet fence out around the 2 acre paddocks where the two groups of sheep were to be moved. By the end of the day, Dominique and I were where fatigue feels heroic.
Here I am on Monday with a lamb, born earlier in the day, lost in the sheep move that afternoon. The lamb's belly was full of milk, evidence of a good mother, but where was “Maaa,” the lamb cried and cried.
Mother was probably out getting full of grass to make milk and would soon be looking for her baby. While Dominique went to the barn for an ear tag, beat-ass me reclined on the cool grass and pulled the lamb in close to begin rhythmically stroking its head with my fingers like its mother would do with her lullaby tongue. The lamb closed its eyes and went to sleep.
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