Shepherdess Situations

One thing I've always known in my own mind, but rarely shared, is my comfort level in the places I've lived in my life. When David and I bought our first house in Allen back in 1992, there was not much there but a Sonic, in the then-small town of Allen. I knew one thing for sure. It was my house I lived in, but I'm not sure it ever felt like home. It was very nice and everything around me was good. But the day we moved out, I was really happy. It wasn't home for me. We lived in two others homes after that, before we made our way to Gunter, and they were much better, as if I was making my way to where I was supposed to be. I can remember going into Tractor Supply a time or two, during those years I lived in a regular suburbia neighborhood. I really don't know why I would have gone into Tractor Supply at that time, as it seemed more like a Field Trip than a shopping trip. I always felt like I should be shopping there, but I had no need for much of their selection like farm animal food, big mowers and "country" things that I had no idea what you might do with it. All I knew is I liked going there. Kind of like some people like the smell of Home Depot. I liked the smell of Tractor Supply, but always left empty-handed. Little did I know....
As I made my way toward a more authentic life for me, I landed in Gunter and still can't fully explain how it all happened. It was a God thing. An unexpected farmer, of sorts, would be my (much desired) destiny. It may not be a working farm, making profit and selling products, but a hobby farm - with much similar work that keeps it running and functioning. Since the barn is not self-cleaning and the farm animals need things, it's much the same type of work, but on a smaller scale. And it's what I enjoy doing. What I didn't expect was all the unexpected things that would happen, particularly to either the chickens, barn cats, donkeys, sheep or dogs. When "surprise" things started occurring, for whatever reason (call it farm naiveness), I was always surprised. The swarm of bees taking up homestead on the side of our house, the hundreds and wasps living in our chimney and coming into the house, possums in the barn, dead skunks in the pasture. You get the idea. They were new-to-me things. But that's been awhile now, and new things have happened. I've had chicken illnesses, pasture management changes, fencing situations, predator problems (like hawks) with my sweet chickens, and one-day-old lamb crisis. I've had Great Pyrenees vet visits, new barn cats (technically, inside cats people no longer want to have) given to us - which by the way have ALL been awesome, wonderful cats. Our cat community is the best around.
I'll stop here and just say that when I step out my front door to go to the barn, as I walk to the barn, this feeling of "wonder what I'll find/see/hear today". Really, every time. When I step in the barn and see everyone is okay, it's a relief. Every time. My eyes automatically scan the pastures, the barn, the animals, counting them, checking for them, and processing the status of them all. It's like a ritual. And when I let my guard down, that's when it seems I'm surprised by something.
Today, my guard was down. It was dawn, and I was in my running attire, and my mind on my running route and milage. I went to the barn to feed, turned one light on (not all of them as usual - I would just be in and out real quick-like) and noticed the wind had blown the sheep's feeders about. I opened the door to their pen, and as usual, place my hand down on Sam's head, to hold Sam the Ram from ramming me. He doesn't get crazy with that ramming thing, but he does show his dominance over "his" ewes. I placed my hand on his head, and in the dim light I felt wetness. What is on his head?!? I didn't feel his horns. As I looked closely, fresh, bright red blood is dripping down his face, particularly on his right side. His horn was completely gone, and the one on the left side was broken off. What the heck?! There's blood everywhere. On their feeders, on the ewes, but mostly dripping down, just next to his eye. I want to scream for David, but I know he's still asleep. I'm stunned - and as usual - surprised. Did something try to hurt him in the night? Did he get his horns stuck on something, like fencing? How do you pull or knock horns off a sheep?! Did he do it to himself? I almost wanted to ask Levi and Whisper, my grand guard dogs, "How did you let this happen?" I'm so confused, I need to wash my hands, I need to help Sam, I need to get David, I need to go out on my run, I need to know what happened, I need....I need....I need.
This is what it's like. My little life. Kind of like the time I thought Sam had the bloat and we would need to put him down. Well, now he's got an artery spitting out blood at who knows what time in the morning. Can I call the Vet? Should I? I step back out of the sheep pen in the barn, and call Sam outside (with treats, of course), and cox him into his special pen we have outside the barn. (Where we put him when people come to visit so they won't have to deal with ram behavior). I lock him in his spot, and then back to the barn to feed and think about what to do about all this business. Oh my goodness, why? Why today? But I say that every time I'm surprised.
Belle and Eve enjoy their moment of luxury and take their time eating while Sam is locked in his pen. I finish feeding everyone and go back into the house to wash my hands. Then, I hear David, upstairs moving about. I yell upstairs to him - something to the effect of Guess What!? Something's happened to Sam! All the while getting on my Mac to Google "Ram loses horns". Is this normal? How did I not know this? Turns out, according to Google, it happens, and people like me are all over the internet asking what to do - and if their ram will be okay. Will the bleeding stop on it's own?
Turns out, rams will knock their horns off by themselves. No reason was given for this behavior, so I will need to check my "Raising Sheep" book on that one. I have many questions like will the horns grow back (people on the web say they will, but that the ram is likely to knock them off again). I do not understand what is happening. How have I had sheep and not know these things. I may need to call Jerry the Sheep Shearer as he knows everything. But not on Sunday.
It's now Sunday evening, and Sam's missing horn spot is still oozy and attracting flies. Flystrike is a thing I apparently need to be most worried about in regards to this situation. We sprayed his head with our fly repellent (we use on the sheep and donkeys). The horn that is only broken off seems stable. But the one that actually came off/out is not looking good. The internet says it will "look worse than it really is". That's like telling a new mom her little baby is going to be just fine, after the child just fell into the coffee table.
I know this blog is Part I or a two part series. There's no good answer tonight, and Sam is not okay, in my book anyway. I'll call the Vet tomorrow, Google it a little more, and figure out what to do to keep the flies off. David is cool as a cucumber. I'm more like a mild jalapeño. Just a little spicy and sweaty about it.
I did get my run done today. We did chain saw (well, David did) a tree that had fallen in a recent storm, and made a burn pile that could heat the whole town of Gunter. But what I didn't do was fix Sam. I don't even know if I can. Tomorrow, I will, because I'm a Shepherdess in a quandary. I'll need to gather a professional opinion - and maybe have a Farm Visit by the Vet.
Tomorrow is a new day. I have a feeling more surprises are coming my way.
Stay tuned,
Cyndi