I purchased Bonnie Jo, my Australian Shepherd, as a puppy. My husband worked all day, and we were home alone. I talked to her all day. We played games, learned tricks and obedience, and she became my emotional support. She instantly knew when I was having a bad day, was depressed or things were golden. Although she did not speak English words, she would let you know an answer by the tilt of her head and look from her eyes. She could definitely tell you off with a look from her eyes.
We did not have sheep when we first got her. But there were cows that would wander into the yard and eat or trample the bushes and flowers I had planted. Bonnie Jo was very good at pushing them out of the yard and away from our place. Upon completing her task of getting rid of the cows, she would return full of pride in her accomplishment.
She was four when we got our first sheep. I did not train her to herd sheep, being told she was too old to train. Every day she walks with us to do chores, fix fence, and other tasks. Where I am she is. I gave her the nick name “Bowling Ball”, as times when I was working with the sheep, she would decided they were too close or not where they were supposed to be and charge in, scattering the sheep in all directions.
Her main duty she decided was guardian of the deck. Our home had a large deck on the backside of the house, she would lay outside watching for anyone or anything to come near, the rise to chase off the stray sheep, cat or bird. Nothing came onto her deck without her permission.
Like people, years go by and she is much older, fifteen years now. She no longer can jump up on the couch to sit with me in the evenings to watch a show. Nor, can she jump up on the bed to sleep with me or get down alone. Last year, she became deaf unable to hear my words, so she learned some sign language. She has joints that are swollen with arthritis from years of running, playing and jumping around. I give her special food, supplements for joints and digestion. There is still a spark in her eyes when I go to do chores, she trots along from pen to pen as I care for the sheep. Every once in awhile she feels like chasing a sheep just because she can.
I want to know when it is time for me to make the big decision. I do not want her to suffer more than she can bare. I want to know when she is ready to cross over the rainbow bridge. If only she could speak the words. I will continue to watch the spark in her eyes, as this is the only way she can let me know.
Anyone and everyone who knows me can answer the question of what is my favorite animal. If you have just started reading my blog, the answer lies within a majority of the blogs. From a very early age, the first recorded image of me with my favorite animal was before I was two years old, when I was first brought home for adoption. This animal is more than my favorite, it is my passion. The horse of course.
Since I can remember, and by family stories, I have always possess a way with and a love for animals. At the tender age of three, I captured my first pet, a kitty cat. I had gone to the trash landfill with my dad and seen this kitty cat. I asked my dad if I could take the kitty cat home. His answer, “If you can catch the kitty, you can keep the kitty.” He set about transitioning our trash to the landfill, I set about capturing a very wild kitty cat. Before he was done with his task, I had accomplished mine, showing him a growling up happy kitty cat that for some reason never scratched or bit me. My dad was surprised by my accomplishment, and a man who kept his word, we came home with an angry kitty cat in the car. A couple of years later, we were moving to a different state and new home, my mom would not allow me to bring my kitty cat with us. I lost my companion who slept on my pillow with me each night. I have never formed a strong relationship with a cat since. I think somehow the event taught me not to develop a relationship with an animal you are going to lose.
Horses caught my imagination and my heart at an early age. The first ride bareback on the big white gelding my father owned when they first brought me home ignited a spark that would stay lite my whole lifetime. I am adopted, and was brought to my adopted home at about 13 months of age. My dad sold the white gelding a year or two later as the horse became unpredictable and dangerous to people. My dad attributed it to a brain tumor in the horse and disclosed this thought when he sold the horse, although it was not confirmed by a vet.
The next horse to enter my life, I was four years old. One morning I woke up, and looking at me through my bedroom window, was a brown horse. My dad had purchased two horses for hunting season, a brown mare and a buckskin gelding. Instantly, I was in love with the brown mare. She was not very tall, and after my dad rode her, he deemed she was safe for me to sit on while he lead her around the yard. After hunting season, dad sold the buckskin, but kept the brown mare as he could see I really loved her and had named her Tammy. Soon I was riding Tammy around the yard. One day, I am not sure what I did, but Tammy moved in a slow gallop. The gently rocking motion of the gait was pleasant and freeing to this little girl trying to adjust.
Everyone thinks that being adopted is a wonderful event, as the people who adopt have chosen a child to raise. That is not always the true situation. My adoptive parents were unable to have children, and decided to adopt. First, my adopted sister, although a 19 weeks younger, was adopted at birth. Somehow, my dad learned of me being available for adoption. He and my mother fought about adopting me. Dad wanted me and my mother did not.
Dad worked long hours and sometimes away from home during the week, only to be home on weekends. My mother was not always friendly or truthful to me. Although she never physically abused me or neglected me, she was not loving nurturing mother a child should have. I desired to know I was loved and accepted from my mother, when I did not receive what I needed from her, I turned to the horse. I would day dream and fantasize about the lovely animal who would love and accept me for who I was. I watch television shows, mostly westerns, not see the plot, but to watch the horses. I read every book I could find on horses, fiction and non-fiction. I would walk up to any horse I came near, often to my father’s worry I would get hurt. My main conversation topic, horses. I would almost be out of high school before I learned that not everyone wants to talk about horses. Even today, I have to be careful when the topic of horses enters a conversation, as I can go on forever talking about this wonderful animal the impact in my life they have brought.
Eventually we moved to a place where my dad could once again buy and keep a horse, for me to be around. At age nine I brokered the deal to buy my very first horse, one that would be mine. Sure, I traded hay bales from our farm for the four month old bay colt to my fourth grade teacher, and my dad taught me my first lesson in buying a horse. Do not agree to purchase a horse until you have seen the animal first. Ok, so to her horse ranch we went. My teacher and her parents had a horse ranch, raising, training and selling Appaloosas and Quarter Horses. I was in amazement with the various pens and pastures filled with horses. We followed her to see to a pasture of mares and foals to see the young horse she had offered me to buy. For a nine year old girl who dreamed, loved and wanted to be a horse, this was heaven to be surrounded by mares and babies. I had not been around foals, the foals were curious, soft velvet noses, large inquisitive eyes with a touch of uncertainty as to who I was. I was filled with serene joy, watching, letting them smell my face, and excited to just be there yet moving gently as not to frighten away these most wonderful little creatures. For this little girl, she had entered heaven. Even today, many decades later, the memory is heaven. I remember each mare and foal.
The young horse I purchased would the first horse I trained under the guidance of my dad, Berry’s Books on horse training and the book, Black Beauty. I spent hours just watching horses learning their ways of communication and patterns. In truth, one of my wishes, prayers and dreams was to wake up one day, and be a horse. Because of this desire, when it came time to train my horse, I wanted to train the horse with kindness and compassion not like on the television shows I watched of a horse frightened and bucking.
As a teenager, I began training others’ horses without pay or my dad’s knowledge. Someone would ask me to work with a horse, and I would because I loved the horse. It became known that I did magic with a horse, a time before people were called horse whisperers. After the moving came out, I was named a horse whisperer. But there is no secret, it is communication. Horse are the most communicative animal I have ever been around. A horse “talks” all the time and never, ever shuts up. Horses communicate through visual means of moving a tail, eyelid, nostril. A horse whisperer knows how the horse communicates and sees the communication, even the smallest movement. There are rules of communication with the horse, how to greet and so forth. There is always a dominate horse, and all others follow their lead and direction. Learn how to communicate and then become the dominate “leader” and you become known as a horse whisperer.
Horses are affectionate and need each other. A horse alone is not happy. As a child I was alone and not happy. I would go to the pen or pasture of my horse and the other three horses my dad owned and no longer be alone, or unhappy. I was accepted as one of them. They showed me affection and acceptance that I did not receive from my mother. There was no striving for perfection in hopes of being loved, I was just loved.
I continue to own horses. There have been times in my life I did not have a horse. There were times, I was able to raise horse, and have the inquisitive babies around, my most joyful times. Today, I do not raise horses anymore. Two years ago, my mare birthed the last foal I would raise. I was blessed with my favorite color for a horse, a bay with a large blanket and spots. My grandchildren named her, Sparkle Lilly. This foal will be the last horse I train, her riding training starting this spring. Age catches up with us all, and there comes a time when being the first person on a horse’s back is not a wise choice. Horses will always remain my closest friend, my companion and my passion.
Below is a picture of Sparkle Lilly. Along with being my favorite color and pattern for a horse, she has unique spots. How many hearts can you find?
There is so much happening on my little farm this month. So, much to do and last night I was sloooowed down. There are three main projects on the farm that need to be completed before the end of September: the horse pens and terraces, cleaning out the barn for a new water filtration system, and training up the two young dogs to do the work my Hank used to do.
Since Hank’s back injury in March, he has recovered to about 80 to 85% of the use of his back legs. He has lost some of his ability to work sheep in difficult situations. There are also times after doing simple work with the sheep, his back hurts. I need a dog to help me with the work, and we have two of Hank’s sons that need their training completed.
What caused my slow down? I was doing chores last night, and while feeding a group of ewes, and trying to train a young dog on working sheep I was literally knocked off my feet. Probably would have made a great video. I was trying to have the dog stop and lay down as I walked to the grain feeder. He had been circling the sheep, bringing them to me, which is what I was wanting in the beginning, and now the dog need to stop and hold them. Suddenly, a white creature came racing in front of me, hit my right leg and I was airborne. I landed on my side with a spilt grain bucket next to me, twenty sheep and goats vying for position to eat the grain. Not a good place to be. Sheep are very pushing when they are eating, even grazing pasture they will push each other around for a choice bit of feed.
I raised up on my left knee and hands, not wanting to put weight on the right leg due to the pain coming from the right knee area, and starting to evaluate my circumstances. Then I noticed a black hairy dog right under me, nipping at the sheep between my left leg, my arm and hand that were holding me off the ground. Now, I could not move because my young dog was working hard to keep hungry sheep from pushing me down again as they fought for position to eat the spilt grain.
My husband did not see the situation resulting in me being on the ground surrounded by sheep. He called out, “Are you ok?” I responded, ” I am not sure, but I need help.” He enters the pen and walks to me, fights the sheep and goats back with yelling, which sent my young dog into ‘Time to get out of here’ mode. “What do you need?” he askes. ” I need help getting up without putting weight on my right leg.” I grab is strong arm and he lifts me to my foot, and I test to see how much pain and weight my right knee will handle if I put weight on my right foot.
I put some weight, no much pain, and the joint felt stable. I took a few steps, the knee joint was stable, though sprained a little. I knew I would have some bruises show up and there were a few areas of scrapped skin. Not bad considering my age, and the situation.
I looked for my young dog, he was at the gate trying to find a hole to leave the country. This young dog, named Junior, is a very talented herding dog, lots of desire and easy to train. Junior is very soft to the handler, meaning it does not take much action from a person to have the dog want to quit and hide. My husband’s yelling and pushing sheep away from me, was too much for the young dog. While still in the sheep pen, I called Junior to me. It took a few tries before he came. I petted him and told him he was a good dog, which he was before and during the time I was down. Petting him also let him know I was ok, he was not in trouble, and he left the sheep pen with a ‘happy’ feeling. The yelling and pushing the sheep my husband did, would not be remember the next time he entered that sheep pen.
It takes months to train a young dog enough to have solid commands of the dog’s movements in containing a flock of sheep. Junior is a month into his training.
I made some mistakes in this situation. First, I should only have had Junior in the sheep pen with me. I also had his brother, Rusty, in the sheep pen at the same time. Second, I should not been trying to teach that specific lesson with Junior while holding a bucket full of grain in a pen of hungry sheep and goats.
When I fell, Rusty froze in position, confused as to what to do. When my husband entered, and was pushing sheep away, he was looking for an escape hole as well. Rusty is not as soft to the handler as Junior, but no dog likes it when my husband gets angry. Once I was up and walking on my own, my husband relaxed and Rusty came to my husband to see what they were going to do next.
My husband works with Rusty, and I work Junior and sometimes Rusty. I usually work the dogs individually. This day, we were trying to get chores done and both dogs worked, and that was a mistake.
Dogs have different personalities, just like people. To create a great working pair of dog and human, matching those personalities is key. I am a soft trainer of both dogs and horses. My husband is a very dominate personality in meaning he is strong in his opinions and very protective of his wife. Our training methods are different as we are have to adjust to the animal.
I have a good amount of patience, can be forceful when necessary, but try not to be. My husband had a very different process of training a horse, stick with it until the horse or dog does what you want. The concept of accepting little steps was new to him when we met. I have learned to expect a little bit more during my training times, he has learned to have a lot more patience and give the animal time to learn. His biggest challenge in training is be a little softer in presenting and teaching his commands. During the training process, the dog or horse learns to adjust to his loud voice and naturally strong stance. For me, the dog or horse has to learn, my soft command is just as strong as my husband’s natural command.
One aspect of training my husband and I both strongly agree is that bonding is key to training success. If the person giving the commands bonds with the animal, the animal tries harder to please and do things right, and forgives the person’s mistakes. Yes, as trainers and working partners with our animals, we will make mistakes and the dog or horse knows it, but will do our bidding anyway.
I love my border collies. They desire to be affectionate, obedient and are happiest when they do something that pleases you. Border Collies are listed as being the smartest breed of dog. Their intelligence requires that they are mentally stimulated every day with some activity. A Border Collie is never a coach potato type dog. Consider what your lifestyle is when selecting a dog, and pick a breed or individual that loves your lifestyle. Realize that puppies, regardless of the breed, need exercise and mental stimulation until they are mature dogs and settle into their breed personality.
As for today, and the next few days, I will continue to ice and elevate my right knee. Takes chores and tasks at a much slower rate allowing my knee to heal. Things will get done, the sun will set and rise, and soon I will be back at full speed.
All babies grow up. Spot is no different. The cute little baby goat I purchased right after Thanksgiving is growing. He should grow being fed a bottle every six hours. He slept in a large dog crate with pine shaving that were changed daily. When he was not in his crate bed, he roamed the house or played outside. When the weather was warm, we placed him in his own fenced playground away from danger to play and enjoy the fresh air.
Two weeks back, Spot became too big for his large dog crate. We had to move him to his private suite in the barn. We made a warm bed under a heat lamp, he had hay and fresh water provided if he chose to eat or drink. His neighbors are my other two goats. I would go out every six hours to feed him the bottle. I or my husband let him out of his stall in the barn to roam with us when we do chores or just work around the place. He loves to follow us everywhere. And there are times he is allowed in the house for short times.
This week, Spot has been seen eating his hay. He has made the choice to not drink all his milk from the bottle, walking away because he is full. His bottle feedings have been moved to four times a day. We still let Spot out to run and romp during the chores and other times of the day. He is still allowed the occasional visit in the house.
My “dog” Spot in the house.
In another month, Spot will not be given a bottle as he will be old enough to wean from a bottle. He will be allowed to romp and play outside his stall. We might move him in with the other two goats, depends on how big he is in a month’s time.
Why do I have goats? For the grandkids to play with. The other two goats are nannies, Precious and Baby, and very friendly. Follow us anywhere and try to help us with our projects. Spot is a billy. So maybe next fall we might have newborn baby goats born.
Twice a month the local sheep and goat auction holds a sale. There is a variety of sheep and goats, young and old, brought into the sale pen and sold to the highest bidder. It is at this auction, two weeks ago, I purchased my new “dog” Spot, a bottle baby goat.
I enjoy attending this sheep and goat auction. I have friends at this auction, that the only time we see and talk with each other is at the auction. Some of these friends have helped me in learning how to make money raising sheep. We talk about family, projects, our animals and our breeding plans among other things.
Today, I brought my new “dog” Spot to the auction. Spot wore a dog harness and was kept on a leash. Now, regardless of where you are, upon seeing a baby goat walking along with a person holding the leash, you would notice. Even at the auction, Spot was noticed.
The main reason I brought Spot today, is he is a bottle baby who is young and only eats from a bottle. While I was at the auction, he would need to be fed. The only way to feed him was to bring him to the auction with me.
Those who work at the auction and those who attend regularly know that my animals are not treated like other sheep and goats. A few were present when a couple of years back I brought a ram to the sale. Unloaded him from the trailer into a pen. Then went into the pen, and without any restraint, proceeded to pick up each foot and trimmed it, so he would look his best at the sale the following day. Most people cannot even get close to their animals, much less pick up a foot with nothing restraining the animal. And the ram, went for top dollar at the sale the next day. Although the auctioneer was called a liar by two people present when he told them of me trimming the feet the evening before. Thank goodness for witnesses who stood up to verify his words as the truth. And my reputation was made as the person who works with her animals and does not always treat them like a sheep or goat.
So today, bringing a baby goat to the auction as if it were a dog was strange but not a big surprise considering I was holding the leash. Now for those who do not know me that attended today’s auction, it was a surprise and opened the opportunity to meet new people. Children were especially drawn to the baby goat. The children would walk up with their parents, and ask if they could pet the goat. I would reply, “Yes, you can pet Spot. He loves to be petted”. Children get bored fast at an auction. They do not understand the auctioneer, and it is hard to watch animals go through a sale ring and not be able to touch them. Spot enjoyed the constant attention and petting by little hands. The children and parents enjoyed the distraction.
Spot loves attention. Spot loves to sit in my lap and be petted. Today at the auction he received plenty of petting and sat in my lap most of the day.
Today, was the last opportunity to catch up with friends, learn what they were doing for Christmas celebration and to wish them a Merry Christmas and a Prosperous New Year.
I attend the sheep and goat auction regularly to keep up with the trend in the market lamb and breeding sheep prices. But today was more than just watching the market trends. It is getting close to Christmas, and I needed some money. I selected three ewes to sell at the auction today. These are not cull ewes, but ewes that would or were producing market lambs. These ewes had traits that I do not want to carry forward in my breeding program and were scheduled to be sold in the future. Because of the reputation I have built concerning my sheep, my ewes sold for $50.00 to $100.00 USD above the price of other ewes in the same condition. When my ewes entered the sale pen and were offered for bid, the bidding was fast and furious at the beginning. I was very pleased with the price my ewes brought today.
Finally, after a long day of sitting, talking with friends and holding Spot, I was ready to go home. I picked up my check, thanked those working the auction and wished everyone a Merry Christmas and Prosperous New Year.
The air is cold, and I have spent the past two days getting ready for the freeze that was coming our way. I do not care much for the cold. Where I live there is not frosty wonderland to see the morning of a freeze, everything covered with frosty crystals. Here when there is a freeze, it is ice covering everything.
To prep for the freeze I gave the dogs in the kennels a fresh bed of wool to help stay warm. I do raise hair sheep, but there are times that even this breed of sheep needs to be sheared. I shear the wool and hair from the top of the back on the show sheep and the first year sheep. First year sheep have a harder time shedding the lamb hair, so I give them some assistance by shearing them the first year. This wool I store in order to use for dog bedding in the cold, icy winter months.
The dogs enjoy their nice soft wool beds, except one. This year we have a young male Akbash cross pup, Bruno (We don’t talk about Bruno…lol). He is eight months old and doing his job protecting the sheep. The livestock guard dogs do not stay in the kennel, but they have a dog house to get out of the weather if needed. I put a nice bed in his house, the next morning all the wool was scattered around his dog house and in the sheep pen. I am not sure how much time he spends in his house for protection from the weather but it is there if he chooses to. The nice wool bed I provided for his sleeping comfort, he decided would be more fun to play with. I can try to help improve their lives, but ultimately it is up to the dog in making the choice to sleep in the shelter and on the bed provided.
I have shelters for the horses and sheep. My favorite mare, My Sweet Victoria, would not use a shelter for years. She would stand outside, and have everyone stand outside with her during the storms. It has only been the past three years she has decided it was ok to use a shelter during a storm. She has had the same shelter for twelve years, and only started using it three years ago. Her two pen mates are happy they are able to use the shelter. My Sweet Victoria is not happy while using the shelter, she is very nervous, but she has figured it is better to be dry than happy.
I have also been prepping the lambing barn. I am close to lambing time again. I do not like lambing in the cold months of the year as there is more work to do. I make sure the lambing pens have shavings for the floor and the heat lamps are working correctly. In the cold months, the newborn lambs need extra heat for a few days, especially at night. The mamas and babies stay in the lambing pens for about three days, then they rejoin the flock. The babies have learned who mama is, gained some strength and are good to return with their moms to the flock.
Last month I made sure the water lines and other areas are winterized for the cold months ahead. Since I do not have the ewes in the lambing barn until they are ready to lamb, I have to prepare it just before lambing and between ewes.
Today, we are set for the cold months ahead, except Bruno who scattered his bed. Ooops, we don’t talk about Bruno….lol
For my occupation I am a sheep farmer. I raise sheep for meat and breeding stock. I enjoy being a sheep farmer. Watching lambs being born, growing and playing is my “television”. I do not care to watch television or a movie much. Watching the lambs is enjoyment.
Most of my ewes I have owned since birth. I know their personality and the sound of their baa. I have selected my sheep from the best that I had, selling off other lambs. Seven years I have worked to have the sheep I currently own.
It is time for me to purchase hay for the winter. We have been purchasing hay from an individual the past two years. Because my flock has been growing larger the last two years, we inform him how much hay for winter we will need in the spring. We let him know this spring how many bales of hay we would need, and he said he would have them for us at the end of summer when we pick up the hay. When we contacted him, he said he sold all his hay to a the local feed store for $105.00 USD per bale. The feed store is charging $260.00 USD for the same hay. I can not continue to raise sheep with hay cost at $260.00 USD per bale. The only place to purchase hay in my area is from the feed store or hay brokers in nearby towns who charge the same amount. I am forced to go to another state and haul my hay to Texas.
Since I am going to have travel to purchase hay, and purchase the hay at one time, I do not have the ready cash for such a purchase. For the first time, I am going to have to borrow money to keep my sheep business going. I have worked for thirteen years to get our personal finances out of debt. I am very reluctant to go into debt to keep the sheep.
I have worked hard to raise the quality of my sheep. I have four sheep consigned to a special Dorper sheep sale in October. My business plan for 2022 was to keep two lambs, a ram and a ewe, to grow up and show and sale in April 2023, and this is on schedule. I have four ewes that are going to have lambs in September, 15 ewes that will start having lambs in October. Five lambs will be ready to sell as market lambs in November/December. The plans were made last January on when I would be having lambs, when they would be ready to sale.
A lot of sheep farmers and cattle ranchers have sold off all their animals. They have folded with hopes of being able to rebuild next spring. There are some who are borrowing money, to keep going and hoping for a better year next year. With fewer sheep having lambs next year, and the demand for lamb meat staying the same, hopefully the price will go up on the market lambs that are produced, and the sheep farmer might be able to recoup the loss of paying so much for hay this winter.
The sad news is, if the price goes up for the market lambs raised by the sheep farmer, the price will go up for the consumer buying lamb meat for dinner. Once ewes or cows are removed from herds producing offspring to be sold for market, it takes a year or two to build those numbers back up to what they were this year.
Should I fold, call it quits or go into debt and preserve to keep all my hard work going forward?
After much prayer and contemplation, I am going to persevere, push ahead to keep going. I will not have the profit margin I calculated last January, I am going forward hoping to do well. I am hoping the market lambs I sell in December/January will bring a high price. The two I am raising to show and sale in April as breeding stock will bring good money. The plans of breeding ewes, producing lambs, and selling market lambs will provide more money than I did this year. Hopefully the drought ends, the hay grows abundant for all farmers.
Yesterday I spent three hours grooming my faithful companion, Bonnie Jo. Bonnie Jo has an interesting history and a special place in our family. I purchased Bonnie Jo as an eight week old puppy twelve years ago, almost thirteen. I was at a Reined Cow Horse Show as a spectator, just before I started competing. I saw these Australian Shepherd puppies. I love Australian Shepherds, so I asked the young woman watching them with her children if they were for sale.
She said, “Yes, these are some of Jack’s puppies and they are for sale.” As I watched the five puppies playing with the children.
“Are there any females?” I asked.
She pointed to the red merle off by itself, “I think that is a female, the only one.”
I went over an picked up the pup and looked at her, instant love at first sight. I gently placed her down. “How much?”
“Oh, I do not own the puppies. We are just playing with them. The owner is over by that truck with the male Australian.”
I walked over to the truck, and looked at the dog sitting in the truck. I did not touch or offer to touch the man’s dog. With ranchers and cattle people, you do not touch the dogs, unless you ask permission. Also, a dog sitting on the back of the truck, is guarding the truck – touch the truck or try to touch the dog at your own risk.
“Hello, Jack.” as I started to introduce myself.
“I’m not Jack.” pointing to the dog, “That is Jack.” And he told me his name. “Jack is the sire of the puppies over there. ” He whistled and Jack jumped off the truck. A large red merle Australian shepherd trotted over and sat down on my foot looking up to me as if I was supposed to give him something.
“May I pet him?”
“Looks like he is demanding a pet. He sure likes you, does not do that with most people.”
After a quick apology about the mix up of name, I said I was interested in purchasing one of the puppies, the red merle female. The deal was made. I found a lead rope in the truck and the pup and I started getting to know one another. As I walked around the arena grounds people would say, “you got one of Jack’s pups. There are good dogs, the best. Jack works the cattle without Mr. R saying a word or whistle. Best working dog I have seen.”
I took her home and showed my husband what I had purchased. “What are you going to call her.” That was a thought, what should this little pup be named? I was thinking then it hit me. Since I had recently received paperwork about my adoption, I decided to call her my original name, Bonnie Jo. Every time I said her name, I would be reminded of the truth and not fall back into the lies of my family.
Bonnie Jo was a terrible two. She liked to play bite with me, but her little teeth were sharp. “Easy.” I would say, and she would cock her head to the side, and then play again, still rough. After having scratches all over my hands, I decided I would gently touch her nose and say “Easy” when she was too rough. I touched her nose, and she slapped my hand with a front paw. I touched her nose again and once more she slapped my hand with a front paw. Well, that was not going to work. But stop playing with her did.
She learned to sit, walk on a leash, be potty trained, even telling me when she had to go outside. She loved traveling with me in the truck and suck my soda out of the straw in the cup. Yes, she loved Dr. Pepper. She learned to drink water from a water bottle tipped on the side with water at the opening edge. She would chase the cows out of the yard, but never really learned to work by commands, but loves pushing sheep and goats away from her house. And her method of playing tug of war, with you are a another dog, is to make sure someone has the end of the rope to pull against, not take off and not share. Tug of war is a pulling game, not a stealing game. If the other dog loses their grip, Bonnie Jo slings the rope, hitting them in the head until they grab ahold then off they run and pull again. Bonnie Jo learned a large vocabulary listening to me all the time. She learned to read my moods and know when I needed someone close. And Bonnie Jo can communicate back with a arsenal of “looks”, some looks if they could kill, would. She gets upset with you, gives you a look, then ignores you.
As a pup, she got in the pen with a yearling horse, and was stomped. We took her to the vet to have her checked out. No internal bleeding, and with a few meds for pain and inflammation we headed home.
Bonnie Jo never came in heat. When she was two, I decided to have her spayed. Drop her off in the morning, and pick her up the next morning. The first time we had been separated since I purchased her. When I went to pick her up, the vet said the womb was full of infection, and had I noticed. I said no, and told how she had never come into heat. And about being stomped. The vet said she had probably had the infection since being a stomped.
Four years ago, she was bitten by a copperhead while we were feeding. I had walked into the barn where the grain is stored. Bonnie Jo was right on my heels as always. Suddenly, there was a loud clang near some metal channel iron we had on the floor. I looked back at Bonnie Jo, “Be careful girl, I do not want you hurt.” She gave me a really dirty look, and walked to the house. The next day, she was limping. I checked her foot and could find nothing, but figured she hurt her foot on the channel iron in the barn the day before. Three days later, she was packing the foot, and I saw the foot pads were totally raw, and found a puncher wound that looked bad. Another vet visit, they took her in and said she was snake bit, looked like rattlesnake or copperhead. They would have to put her under anesthesia to clean the foot. They also wanted to give her some IV antibiotics for infection and pain meds. Again, Bonnie Jo was away from me for the night. The next day I picked her up with pain meds and antibiotics. There were several more trips for changing bandages during the next three months.
Bonnie Jo does not like to take pills for anything. She is the only dog that I know that will make herself vomit, after you have forced her to eat a pill. If the pill is in food, she will refuse the food, even her favorite meat treat. I wasted one pill by grinding it to a powder and putting the powder in canned dog food. She refused to eat the dog food for a day and half, never ate the dog food. Daily was a struggle to get her to take her meds. I managed to get most of the meds to stay down, holding her nose shut for about five minutes then giving her a meat treat.
Yesterday, I bathed her. I have to put a leash on her before I ever get the bathing supplies together. Her long thick fur mats quickly. I use a conditioner and detangler on her hair when I bath her. I brush her to remove all the debris that gets caught in the fur. In spring when the temperature get warm, she gets a body clip. The rest of the time, I trim the hair on her back side to prevent manure and debris from collecting and making a mess in the house. The whole time during bathing, brushing and clipping, she is totally shaking. After several baths over twelve years, you think she would get used to it. At least my husband no longer has to hold her while I give her a bath. Still, Bonnie Jo does not like a bath or brushing or being clipped or having her toenails done. She does not fight like she used to as a pup. One of her first baths she jumped out of the tub and ran through the house, hiding under the dining table while still covered in suds.
She no longers jumps and bolts during baths. There are several things she no longer does, like jumping up on the couch, or into the truck. She does not hold her bladder well, so long trips are no longer taken. There are times she has accidents in the house. And she no longer jumps on the bed in the morning when I husband gets up, but stays in her spot on my side of the bed. She prefers a dog bed or soft rug to lay on and not the hard floor. She still insists on following me as I do chores, although she does not go into or get too close to the sheep. She only occasionally with push the sheep now. She rests a lot when we do chores, and is ready to lay down in the house when the chores are done.
Bonnie Jo is twelve this year. The lifespan for Australian Shepherd dogs is twelve to fifteen years. She is in her golden years, still going as strong as her age will allow. I know the days are number for her to be beside me, but she will always be in my heart and memories.
I love you Bonnie Jo, thank you for helping me get through some tough emotional battles, and always being by my side.
Last night and today, we have been receiving some much needed and prayed for rain. The area I am in has been in a drought all summer, no rain. Rain is what we depend on to water our pastures as there is no irrigation type systems in this area. No one irrigates or uses farm sprinklers to water their fields and pastures. Rainfall is very important.
I am many things, but my main occupation is being a sheep farmer. I raise Dorper sheep for market lamb. I enjoy this occupation of caring for the sheep. Being a sheep farmer is more than just taking care of sheep. I have to manage the pasture and other resources in order to care the sheep and make a profit.
One of those resources is my pasture. When we first purchased our small homestead, the pasture had been overgrazed. There was way more weeds than grass, and large bare areas of dirt. Not much feed for the horses we were raising at the time. Building up a pasture that has been overgrazed takes time, there is no quick fix.
Our lives took a change, we sold the horses and I became a sheep farmer. In the beginning as a sheep farmer, I did not have very many sheep, five to seven. Sheep love to eat weeds, 70 % of their preferred diet is weeds and brush. I had plenty of both when I started raising sheep. As the sheep grazed the weeds, not allowing the weeds to produce seeds and replant, my pasture starting changing. The weeds being controlled by the sheep allowing more moisture and sunlight for grass, the grass started growing and spreading. Today, my pasture is mostly grass, the few weeds I do have are weeds sheep and other livestock do not eat.
This spring we did not get the usual amount o rainfall. The summer was dry, no rainfall and heat. The grass in the pasture became tan, short, dry and had stopped growing. In July, I stopped grazing the sheep on the pasture, and kept them in pens with limited grazing around the sheds and house. I did not want to overgraze the pasture and stress or kill the grass I had managed to build up. I was able to water the grass around the sheds and house using the water from our well. This week, I stopped grazing the sheep totally. The grass around the sheds and house were not able to keep up with the sheep. I did not want to overgraze this area either.
Being a sheep farmer is more than just taking care of the sheep, it is managing the resources needed to care for the sheep. My sheep pens are placed on a hillside above the pasture. When we do receive rain, the water naturally sheds to the pasture. As the water moves through the pens, it becomes a manure tea, fertilizing the grass in the pasture. The past few years, there has developed a darker green and more lush grass nearer the sheep pens than in the back of the pasture. The darker green grass area has been growing large each year.
When I clean out my sheep pens, I compost the manure for more than 30 days, usually a few months, before applying it to the pasture. Letting the manure compost helps with internal parasite in the sheep, not allowing the larva to infect the sheep. After thirty days, if the larva have not been introduced into a sheep’s system, the larva dies.
Having the sheep pens on a hillside allows for faster draining and drying of the sheep pens, than the rest of the property. Keeping the sheep pens drained helps to prevent footrot, a bacterial infection of the sheep hoof that destroys the hoof. The placement of pens and shelters is also a management decision for a sheep farmer.
Yes, we have received a little bit of rain, but this will not break the drought. This little bit of rain will give the grass a breath of life. The pasture will take more rain, and time to rebuild from the stress of the drought before I can have the sheep graze it once more. I will continue to feed the sheep hay in their pens until spring arrives. I am managing my pasture to feed the ewes and lambs this spring and next year. If I overgraze or let the sheep graze too soon, I will hinder and possible destroy the work of the past few years to build up and improve my pasture.
Today I went to the sheep and goat sale barn. I have not been since April when the young owner of the sale barn shut down suddenly for unknown reasons. He reopened in July.
I took a four young sheep to sale. I was planning on keeping three of the young sheep for replacement ewes, and the ram lamb was going to the freezer. The drought in my area has created a shortage of winter hay. I purchased hay for winter this last spring. The lack of rain, the pasture is not growing. Since July I have been feeding the winter hay.
I made the decision to slow the growth of my flock by keeping only two young ewes for breeding ewes. I sold three of the five ewe lambs I was retaining for growing my flock.
I have another ram lamb, that I was growing up to see if he would make a herd sire. This ram lamb is not what I would consider a herd sire. He is larger and ready for the freezer. By putting him in the freezer, and selling the young ram lamb I was feeding out to put in the freezer, I remove two sheep from the feeding program.
Lastly, I took the little billy goat I had purchased to be a sire. The reason for selling him, he was too little to be a sire.
Totally I have removed six animals from the feeding program.
I have five baby lambs with their mothers and four more ewes due to lamb in the next month. Another group of thirteen ewes will start lambing in October through December. I will be adding more animals to the feeding program, but also some of these lambs will be sold to buy additional feed that will be needed. Raising sheep is a constant program of breeding, lambing, weaning and selecting animals to keep or sale as breeding stock, and those that will be sold for market.
I also went to catch up with friends and acquaintances. The talk at the sale barn was about being able to obtain hay, what condition pastures were in, and how many animals people were keeping and selling.
One acquaintance, I will call TOV, their auction name, said they were going to “roll the dice” and keep all their stock and not sell off any. Taking a chance that there will be rain and another cutting or two of hay before the cold weather hits. If we get rain for another cutting or two of hay, that means there will be pasture grass as well. They have finally built their breeding stock up to a good quality, and was not going to sell them at the low ewe prices, and pay more to rebuild next spring.
I can agree with not selling the ewes. The prices for breeding ewes is very low. It was tempting to purchase a couple of the ewes going through the sale, due to their price. But, I am concerned with the amount of feed, and I just sold some really nice young ewes from good bloodlines that I raised. Breeding ewes will be higher next spring, when everyone is trying to buy ewes because they sold theirs now. I have seen this happen before.
I am also “rolling the dice” as I do every day with my sheep farm. Calculating, watching the sheep market prices, feed prices, and praying for wisdom. I make plans on the direction of my sheep farm, only to be held at the mercy of the weather and the markets of supply and demand.
I was blessed today as my fat well cared for animals brought the top of the market prices for today. I feel good about the decision to sell some of my animals now, instead of waiting.
There are always decisions that need to be made. We can not see the future, but we can look at the information, pray for wisdom, and make a decision we are at peace with. I look for guidance in making choices. In the process of choosing which young ewe lambs would be sold, I sorted through them based on their conformation. As I sorted, I would separate the ones I was keeping, then sort through them again, until I had the number I needed to sell. One ewe lamb had my marks on her back, she was the last one I sorted off to sell. My marks on this ewe lamb showed the decision to sell her was not a random selection, but a decision of thought. Every decision needs to be a choice by thought and prayer, not a random choice of convenience.
As I continue with raising and selling sheep I will also continue to pray for wise choices in how to manage my sheep farm as well as for good lamb crops and rain.
Me, Myself and I 