Well, Linda and I did it ... we bought a couple of sheep and a couple of goats. We are now the proud owners of two American Blackbelly ewes. One of the ewes, the one we call Rosie, has twin lambs, a male and female. Linda named the other ewe Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea is due to lamb sometime in October.
Blackbellys are a handsome breed that remind me a little of deer. And they can jump like a deer too. They are mostly a dark tan with a black underbelly. They are a hair breed so do not need to be sheared. The little buck is called Bucky. I don't know why. He has horns and a darker face than his sister. The grandchildren named her Tinkerbell.
The goats are two young siblings, both male. One is black and white and the other is tan and white. We named the black and white one Billy Bud. The tan and white one is Buddy Holly. Unlike his namesake, though, I don't expect this Buddy to die in a plane crash. These goats are bottle-fed, so they are extremely friendly and love to be petted. The grandchildren who live next door are over almost every day after school to feed the animals. They all enjoy going into the pasture and playing with the goats. The sheep, on the other hand, are a bit more stand-offish. They will eat out of your hand though.
The sheep do not like the goats and make no bones about it either. The ewes will butt the young goats away from the feed pan and any other time they think the goats are too close. The goats don't seem to mind though. They go on about their business as though nothing happened. It challenges every preconceived idea we ever had about sheep and goats. The ewes actually look kind of hateful or spiteful, just like a middle-aged gossip, if you know what I mean. We ended up buying another feed pan for the goats, but you still have to stand there to keep the sheep from coming over and eating their feed too.
All of the animals love the sweet feed. They have more grass than they can eat but, if there is any hint that you might be about to feed them, they come running; and, as they run, they are all "baa-ing" their heads off. "Baa, baa", "Baa, baa." The sheep sound exactly like they are saying, "Baaaad!" It gets a little humorous sometimes when they are all "baa-ing" at the same time. If the goats don't think you are responding fast enough, they will kick it up several decibels. "Baa-aaa-AAAAAAA! It sounds like they just jumped off a cliff into Grand Canyon or something. We find it hilarious. We laugh at them and "baa-AAAA" right back.
The goats are climbers, and we have the perfect tree for them. It is a large mulberry tree that has two large branches that form a "V" close to the ground. They will climb up in that tree and stand there for long periods at a time. They usually sleep at the base of the tree. The sheep have a different tree they sleep under.
The day after we got the goats, Linda came running into the house, "The goats are out! The goats are out!"
She was yelling at the top of her lungs. I said, "Just calm down, all we need to do is get a little feed and they'll go right back into the pen."
I sauntered out the front door and there were the goats grazing by the front porch. They immediately came running to me and followed me back to the pasture. I led them in and closed the gate behind them.
I noticed the grandchildren had not latched the chain as tightly as it could be, so I nailed another staple in a little farther up so it would latch tighter. That seemed to do the trick. Although the goats tried very hard to get their heads between the gate and the post, there simply wasn't enough room for them to get out again.
I had to remonstrate with Linda for getting so excited. "You silly town girl -- don't you know the livestock will follow you if you have feed? Those goats will follow you even if you don't have any feed. They are just big pets."
Well, I reckon she took my instructions to heart. A couple of days later she got up before I did and pretty soon she woke me. In a very quiet voice she said, "Sam, I think we may have a problem."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I think all the animals are out. I went out to the gate and called them and none of them came."
"The animals are out! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I shouted as I jumped out of bed. "The neighbor's dogs may have killed them already! Or coyotes may have gotten them! I don't understand why you are so calm!" I yelled as I quickly dressed.
With pounding heart, I hurried out to the pen. No livestock in sight. I jumped into my old Ford pickup and drove up the driveway. There in the tall grass all the animals were happily grazing away. I shifted into reverse and headed back to the house.
"They are all in the pasture right where we left them last night." I told Linda, "What made you think they were out?"
"I banged on the fence and they didn't come. I thought they had to be out," she said.
"Well, they could have been out and if they had been, they wouldn't stand a chance against dogs or coyotes. But why so calm?"
"Well, I didn't want to overreact like I did the other day," she told me.
"I see. Well, I guess I have to say, I think you overcompensated."
I looked at her and we both laughed out loud. I had to shake my head at the mixed signals we husbands send sometimes. Looking out the window we watched as the sheep and goats made their way down to the water trough. All was right in the world at Byrnes Farm.
Sam Byrnes is a Gentry-area resident and weekly contributor to the Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 05/04/2016