OK, So. Where Were We...?

It's been over a year since I've written a post. So. Where were we?

We are nearly at the end of shooting season, and our last day is the 1st of February. After a hot, dry summer in England, our birds grew well. We introduced a new strain of pheasant - the Byzanty.

Byzanty is actually the Polish word for pheasant, but it's also a strain of pheasant that's darker and has a bigger body than our usual type, and it's a stronger flyer. We needed a stronger flyer as the ground in Herefordshire is flatter than Dorset, so the birds need to take off and propel themselves, rather than just drift off higher ground.

The downside is that this strain wanders more, and we have to work harder to keep them at home. We use a combination "carrot and stick" approach: we feed them their favorite cut maize (carrot) and chase them back when they stray with a dog (stick). The shooting clients have been very complementary about our new breeding. We only introduced it to half the flock, in case it didn't work, but we will hybridise the whole flock this season, after a successful trial run.

I'm trialling a new ram too. Meet Bertram.

He's a Freisian - a  milking or dairy type sheep that comes from Holland / Germany. Mike bought me a proper milking machine for my goats, and it got me thinking about how delicious sheep's cheese is. My Dorset ewes are perfect for crossing with a dairy breed. Insomnia and scrolling through a livestock sale website at 2 a.m. led me to find Bertram. My first Dorset x Friesian lamb was born this morning -

It's a ewe lamb, and what I hope will be the first of my future milking sheep flock. She was born to my ewe called One Tag, for the (probably obvious) reason that she only has one tag in her ear, having ripped the other out on some wire fence while reaching through to eat the waaay better grass on the other side.

The first lambing of the year has not been without its drama already. One Tag has mastitis so I've had to defrost some frozen sheep colostrum (the first milk with all the energy and mum's useful antibodies) and tube the little lamb, to make sure she had a full belly and necessary antibodies. One Tag looked as if she could be having twins but hours passed and there was no sign of contractions. When I checked on her a couple hours later, there was a cold, dead ram lamb in the pen. 

Well, that sucks. I'm already at 50% mortality on the first day.

Breeding a milking flock is an experiment, like Mike's Byzanty pheasants. I chose Dorset ewes from my flock which were not great examples of their breed - maybe a bit masculine in the face, too woolly, pigmented eyes - or that were related to my Dorset ram. A cross could potentially improve them. I'm only lambing 7 or so this month, which are in lamb to Bertram. I won't know for 18 months to 2 years whether or not this crossbreed will succeed. 

Not to put all my eggs in one basket (or lambs in one pen?) Horned Ram has covered my best ewes and those are due in April. Sadly, Prick my stock ram died in the summer.

Staggered lambing also helps me to spread out my lamb crop so that any lambs going to market will go throughout the year. If they all go at the same time and the market price is low when the lambs are ready, that's a big financial hit to take on a once a year crop.

Last year's lambing was excellent - 200% return, no lamb deaths, and lots of replacement ewes. Yes, of COURSE something went wrong. The growing lambs got a virulent worm that was resistant to the medicine programme I was using. The lambs crashed in a week, and by the time the vets identified the cause and treated it, I lost 3 ewe lambs, including my only horned ewe lamb.

While the lambs recovered I kept them inside the barn, and I had to feed them on concentrated food to bring their weight and condition back to normal. The extra feed wiped out any profit on my lamb sales last year. It was tough. I still have some of last year's lambs not yet fit as "finished" lambs and I will hold them over the winter, requiring yet more feed and care, to be sold as hoggett (young sheep) in the spring market.

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It's 4:22 am and I've been lambing for the last hour. Horned ewe was in the throes of delivering a big ram lamb when I did my early check. Thank goodness I did, as the lamb had its head out and was still in the water bag. I found his front feet, broke the bag, checked he was breathing and helped the ewe deliver him. A trick for delivering a big stuck head is to put your hand inside her bottom and push the head down. Works great, just wash your hands before making a cup of tea.

Writing is a great distraction while I wait for Horned ewe to lamb again. I didn't have them scanned so I have to use a combination of experience (limited) and observation to decide if there are going to be multiple births. She's restless and pawing the ground now so I've turned off the light in the barn to let her settle and get on with the job.

Oh yes, the barn!

I had a barn built, with electricity and plumbed in water, for lambing and kidding (goats). It is the absolute height of luxury! No more wandering around a dark field shining a torch, hoping to catch sight of reflecting eyes to find a sheep in labour. When I described this scenario to my sister, she said "That is how every horror movie starts."

Now, I walk 30 yards across the lane, turn on a light and lamb in a dry room on a bed of straw. All my meds are in reach. No more trying to time contractions in order to catch a ewe in distress, in an open field. No more being rained on while I tend to ewe and lamb.

Can you tell I'm excited about this?

It's not a huge barn, so I have to bring in batches of ewes, and turn them out on grass when their lambs are big enough, clean down, and bring in the next batch. There's another half, but at the moment it's filled with logs waiting to be split and a big bale of feed hay.

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It's 6.30 am now. Horned ewe hadn't delivered within the hour, so I went in to have a look. She had nearly loaded the lamb into the birth canal, but she just got too tired to push. The lamb was in distress and had a front leg pointed the wrong way. A bit of manoeuvring and a lot of pulling on my part (she wasn't having contractions to help me), and I managed to get the ram lamb out.

He swallowed some fluid during the birth and his breathing is laboured but improving. Barring infection, he should be OK. I learned my lesson from yesterday's long delivery and intervened earlier. So, mortality has gone down - to 25%. I'll take it for now.

I won't relax until Horned ewe passes her placenta. I had a feel inside the birth canal, up to the middle of my forearm, and nothing else was in there. But, a placenta dragging along behind is a sure sign it's over.

Time for coffee. After I wash my hands.


P.S. I owe Kristen W and my family a big thank you for the encouragement to start writing again. I guess I have a year's worth of stuff to catch you up on.

A Long Coffee Break

I seem to have gone on an extended hiatus. I apologise.

Nothing bad has happened, aside from the regular ups and downs of farming life. I think I felt like I had nothing new to say, and was repeating myself with the seasons: lambing, growing, mowing, hunting, Christmas, end of the season. Lather, rinse, repeat.

If you will bear with me, I will try and grow my writing, along with my crops and my animals. I don't know exactly what we'll evolve into her at M&T. I know I originally started this blog to let my family know what we were up to, with photos of their favourite animals. That will have to continue to be part of the blog. But I'm open to ideas and suggestions always.

I've missed you guys as well. More to come.

The Operation was a Success!

Different coloured sprays to heal, protect, and prevent flies bothering him.

Not only can he see just fine now, but he's still as handsome as ever, even with his horns trimmed. The vets had to remove quite a lot of horn -

I've saved them for a friend who likes to make walking sticks.

The horns will continue to grow so I will have to keep them filed down, which is a job I can do myself. It's a good thing he's such an amenable chap. 

Now he's ready to woo his first group of ladies this November!

Autumn

Autumn is my favourite season. I love watching the Canada geese migrating in their V-formations, and hearing the fox vixens yowling for a mate. Our first shoot day isn't until 14th October so it's a bit slower-paced between now and then.

Well, mostly.

There's a new patient recovering in our rehab hutch -

A baby wood pigeon, also called a "squab". I found the squab under a tree this morning, before the dogs did luckily! He (or she) is likely suffering from eating too many green acorn, which cause pyrogallol poisoning. It's common this time of year, in pigeons particularly, and as it is a bumper crop of acorns this year, I imagine we will have more patients before winter comes.

I'm waiting on three ewes to lamb. One ewe looks due any time now. So, a few autumn lambs will be frolicking in the orchard soon. The last eleven lambs born in spring went to market a couple of weeks ago, so I miss having babies around already.

The vet is coming tomorrow to de-horn my handsome ram lamb, whose horns have started to impede his sight and the widening of his facial bones as he matures-

The vet may say he's fine and the horns can stay. I will let you know the outcome. He's so handsome as he is, but he has to be comfortable and fit for purpose most of all.

I have a Hadley Bubbles update for you from Aunt Meg:

"Here are the pictures of Hadley's graduation from Intermediate training class. She didn't even try to eat the tassel!

What a good dog."

Doesn't HB look happy? She is perfect in her new role as companion and foot warmer.

Update Part One

It really has been a long time since the last update from M&T. I realise this as there's so much to tell you - most of it good, I promise! - that this could be a long post. Or three.

You have been warned. I'll wait, if you want to go make a cup of coffee first.

We finished hatching. This year in total we put 54,500 pheasant eggs through our machines. About 80% hatched, and most were sold to other shoots. Pip enjoyed her new job as Hatching Supervisor -

The job involves blocking the doorway while watching the activities in the hatching room. Pip is so loved that, even though she was completely in the way of constant traffic through that door, everyone stepped over her and gave her a pat rather than moving her. Age has its perks.

Our pheasant chicks have grown and many are in their woodland pens now, doing exciting pheasant stuff like eating, roosting, and wandering about exploring their new world. Our few partridge are growing too, and will go to wood this week if the weather stays dry.

We've had a higher-than-usual number of orphans to care for this season. Mostly birds, though yesterday underkeeper Ian brought me a hedgehog he found wandering in the road. It was healthy apart from a huge flea burden (sadly common in hedgehogs). I treated its fleas and let it go in the adjoining field where it happily tottered off soon after.

Our orphan bird success has been hit-and-miss. The woodpecker from the last post fledged fine, as did a mallard duckling after a week's care and feeding. A blue tit with a broken wing didn't make it. Our worst failure was 3 cygnets. They found Mike in the woods, and came wandering up to him while he was mending the net on a pheasant pen. Mike said he's never seen behaviour like it. He brought them home and I put them under a heat lamp (yes, in the kennels as usual).

They were all too thin. I googled "cygnet care", as one does, and then set off to check the ponds for pairs of swans without offspring. Perhaps the family just got separated. If I could find their parents, they would do a far better job of looking after them. There were no swans to be found. And my care must have been wanting as the trio died two days' later. Mike and I were really upset to lose them.

Speaking of strange behaviour - maybe you remember the Canada geese goslings we reared last year? Three of the four goslings flew away, but one with a wing that never healed right was unable to fly. So he (she?) wandered back to Ian's garden where the goslings were raised. The gosling was now a goose and ready to take a mate. With no eligible geese to hand, s/he chose the next best thing: a cocker spaniel-

The goose has pair-bonded with Tilly, Ian's cocker spaniel pup. Tilly seems fine with the arrangement and lets the goose groom her and feed out of her bowl; it does both by putting its head through the kennel bars. The goose tolerates Tilly's kennel mates, as long as they don't get too close to the pair.

Nature is a funny thing.

There are a few changes in our own kennels. Hadley Bubbles failed out of gun dog school. She's not a willing retriever and she lacks confidence needed to work away from her handler. But with her sweet temperament and laid back attitude, she would make a great pet.

My aunt Meg, who's forgot more about dogs than I know, just lost her last golden retriever to cancer. Meg offered not only to adopt her, but flew over from the US and took Hadley back with her, making sure the plane ride and long drive from Boston to Maine were comfortable for the dog.

I get regular pupdates from Meg and the partnership is working out great. Hadley gets to stay in the family and has the Maine woods for her backyard. She's a success as a pet dog. I will leaver her picture up in the margin of the blog and post pupdates, as we still consider her part of the team.

Podge our cocker spaniel is recovering from surgery yesterday. She's in a crate next to me as I write, with her favourite toy as company and Pip snoozing nearby-

Podge had some tumours removed from her belly and I had her spayed at the same time. We're waiting for the lab results to tell us whether the tumours are benign or cancerous. The x-rays showed no signs of spreading to the lungs, which is an hopeful sign.

Recovery will take some time and Spud will have to fill from Podge until she gets the all-clear to go back to work.Until then, Spud and some of the others are taking advantage of the bounty of fruit in the orchard. There is a browse line on the pear trees the height of the tallest retriever stood on two legs-

Here comes Gertie bounding in from the right to help!

It's a pick-your-own free for all! Spud also found my squash plants and will pick and eat a summer squash if I don't keep an eye on her.

Cheyenne is still just a puppy, but you wouldn't know it from her size -

She's only 7 months old in that photo. She's even bigger now. She idolises Molly who, for the most part is teaching Chi good habits like come when you're called and be nice to visitors (they have biscuits!). Unfortunately, Molly has also taught Chi the exciting fun to be had digging for moles in the orchard.

I regret nothing...

Chi is a quick learner and has much bigger paws than Molly. They have caught and dispatched a few moles, so it's not all bad even if the orchard looks like it's been hit in a bombing raid.

Mike's just told me the housekeeper is on her way over with some guinea fowl chicks that have been abandoned by their mother. Thank god it's not swans again.

I'll leave our update here, so I can get a kennel ready for the chicks' arrival. I'll talk sheep and goats in the next part of the update. Stay tuned.

Happy Spud & a Sad Update

We've had hot, dry weather for nearly a week, but my swamp collie Spud manages to find a puddle on our squirrel-trapping rounds -

And can't wait to get back in the buggy and give me a hug afterwards -

But she's cooler and happy, so I'm happy.

All the animals are fine. The sad update refers to my 20 May post about Parnham House. It was in the national news yesterday, and you can read it for yourself here.

Wool Week & the Rehab Hutch

Our sheep shearer Matt and his family have come and sheared most of my flock.

The set up team!

Wet weather and dull blades stopped progress, six sheep short. The rams, Pumpkin and 3 ewes due to lamb in September will have to wait til next week to have their fleeces off. The rest of the sheep are feeling relieved to be rid of their heavy sweaters.

I'm relieved because the ewes are looking in great condition this year, even so soon after lambing.

I took this picture of Grumpy being shorn - it's probably the only time you will ever see her deign to be handled by a human.

Even then Matt still has to sit on her.

I had my own shearing job to do -

Podge needed her summer haircut, as she will start working while the weather is warm and I don't want her to overheat. I use the horse clippers and she stands on the tailgate of the truck very patiently. Thankfully, she's not fussy about her haircut.

Yeah, I know. My shearing skills are nil. Mike won't let me trim the poof of hair on top of her head because he thinks it gives Podge character. I hope it draws the eye away from the terrible haircut.

When the sheep are all shorn, I will have two wool sacks, each the size of a double mattress, to take to the wool sellers. I hope I'm not too late to sell to the Irish buyers this year. Their prices are better than the British Wool Board. Wool payments are very small and all my wool will only earn me about £50 annually.

Shearing is most importantly a welfare issue: to keep the sheep cool in summer and prevent fly-strike (maggots burrowing into the flesh of a sheep). My ewes graze better when sheared. In full fleece, the ewes spend their days laying the the shade instead of eating.

I sent a few hoggets to ice camp this week. One ram for Ian, his payment for helping me with sheep jobs throughout the year, one ewe for us, and the best ewe sold to a local gastropub. The one sold cascase covers all the butchery costs and my shearer's fee. A couple culls went to market, in time for Ramadan, and made good prices too.

The rain last week meant I was able to finish my own wool project -

My annual shoot season jumper. Of course, this was supposed to be finished for last season. It's only 9 months late - or is it 3 months early for this season? It fits great and it's super warm, but it has one flaw on the back of the right sleeve -

Either I was distracted by something on TV or I had an extra glass of wine, I'm not sure, but the result is a couple inches of purl stitch when it should have been knit stitch. It's like a small scar but I don't mind imperfections.

Alongside my wool week, I've been doing my daily squirrel trap checking round. On one of my checks I found a tawny owl caught in some plastic deer netting. It was hanging upside down, wings outspread, and looking poorly -

It must have flapped to try and free itself, but only managed to wind the plastic net tighter around its leg. I cut it down, keeping an eye on the trapped leg. I should have been watching its good leg. The owl sank one of its curled talons into my middle finger, so far that it went in one spot and came out another, like it was sewing a running stitch with a needle. I had to free my finger before I could resume freeing the owl's leg.

I brought the owl home and gave it an injection of pain killer ( a stab for a stab!) and put some antibiotic spray on the leg wound. I put in my Rehab Hutch, a guinea pig hutch I use for any hurt or abandoned young that the boys find.

The owl survived the stress overnight, so I was at the vets when they opened, to get it checked out and sent to a special owl rescue centre. The owl got the care it needed, and I got a week long course of antibiotics for my infected finger.

The Hutch is already re-occupied - this time it's a Greater-spotted Woodpecker fledgling-

Normally we leave fledglings for their parents to find, as long as they're safe from immediate danger. Ian found this one in the road. The fledgling is feisty and is almost big enough to go it alone. A few days of hand feeding, water and protection and I can let it go, I hope. And its talons aren't nearly as dangerous as the last occupant's, which is a bonus.