The Two-Fence Rule

 

The ewe lambs with their two house mothers.

As the days get shorter and the nights colder, our sheep care not about pumpkin spice, camp fires nor elections. For them, it's breeding season.

For me, it's strict adherence to the two-fence rule; two fences must separate the groups of sheep.

On the farm, unlatched gates happen. They don't happen often, but they do. When ewes or rams discover unlatched gates during breeding season, pregnancy happens, and it happens fast. One year, a ram impregnated three ewes in six hours. In another, an eight-hour party resulted in four pregnancies. The two-fence rule is meant to prevent that.

During the summer months and early fall, it's easy to adhere to the two-fence rule. We have two groups of sheep: the girls (mature ewes and ewe lambs) and the boys (mature ram, wether and ram lambs). Because we have several pastures, it's fairly easy to ensure that the girls and boys are not in adjacent pastures.

Now that it's breeding season, we have three groups of sheep: the ram lambs that will go to the butcher in November, the ewes lambs and house mothers that I'll use for working dogs on through the winter and spring; and the breeding ewes and ram.

Sticking to the two-fence rule becomes a three-ring circus. But breeding season is only for three weeks, and then we'll be back to two groups.

Two fences and 40 feet may separate the rams lambs from the ewes, but they're still drawn to each other.

In other farm happenings: Fall cleaning is beginning. A frost killed everything in the garden except for some chard and snow peas, so I'll be cleaning out the garden this week. And, then my attention turns toward field edges and fence rows.

Muscle Memory

Seeing the world through golden ears.

When the neighbor girl wanted to learn about horses, I said yes.

Horses have always been a part of my life. My first pony, Rocky, took 8-year-old me across creeks, on trails, and under branches. Many rides ended with walks home where my pony was waiting at the barn. As a teen, horses meant horse camp, 4-H and freedom.

During my college years, I loved working from sunrise to sundown in the horse barns at a summer camp. My days were filled with caring for horses, giving lessons and leading trail rides, and on my days were spent riding horses.

After college, I met a woman who introduced me to competitive and endurance riding. We covered hundreds of miles and went where few people ever walked. During those hours in the saddle, we also became great friends and had so many laughs together.

After moving to the farm, I still kept horses, took riding lessons and learned about dressage. I love looking out the window and seeing the horses, touching their soft noses and burying my hands under their manes on cold winter days.

But, until recently, I hadn't ridden a horse for two years.

As life got busy, and I took up herding with the Border collies, I spent less and less time in the saddle, and then, none at all. 

If I was going to give lessons, I'd have to get on my horse. So, I tacked up Lily, led her to the mounting block and got on. My legs settled into position; my feet found the stirrups; and fingers held the reins. With a little exhale of breath, Lily stepped into a walk. And, thanks to two years of practicing yoga, I felt stronger, more in balance and straighter than I ever had.

While I haven't ridden much in the past several years, I've spent hundreds of hours in the saddle with Lily, and muscle memory takes over. I use my legs and seat aids as we practice circles and leg yields. And, she responds, as if it's been two days instead of two years since I last rode.

When I dismount, my hand reaches into my pocket for her treat, which she takes as I rub her blaze and run my fingers over her soft muzzle.