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Saturday, July 27 2013

 

 

While we were at the ranch last week someone stole my goats! And my sheep! Someone backed into the yard and loaded up the whole crew!

When we returned home it was dark, so we were careful to remind each other that we had left the sheep in the yard while we were gone. This mantra must be repeated often.

"Don't forget the sheep. Don't forget the sheep. Don't forget the sheep."

Because if you forget, this is what happens:

So we didn't forget the sheep. The problem was that we couldn't find the sheep. Or the goats. Nothing. Nada. I walked all over the yard. I called. I "baaaed."  I sounded like a damned fool in the dark trying to find them. Silence. Crickets.

Briar was here. She had a slight limp, but that could just be Big Dog Stove Up from sleeping under the horse trailer.

I walked out to the goat yard just in case our Farm Sitter put them up. Nope. No goats.

As I walked in the dark I slowly came to grips with the idea that they'd been stolen. While the bulk of them could be replaced, certain little faces floated to the forefront of my mind . . .

No. I didn't want to face the idea that these sweet trusting faces would be sold and butchered.

I reported my fears to Other Half. He joined the hunt. I called the Farm Sitter on the wild chance they'd found a break in the fence earlier in the week and had just found another one. No. No luck. They were there when she left. I already had visions of haunting every feed store, feed lot, back lot, butcher shop, and barbecue. Other Half was already planning on pulling the security cameras and calling the sheriff and livestock investigator.

And then he saw something.

While I continued to walk around the yard with a flashlight, Other Half caught the glow of an eye reflected in the flashlight. And just like that, the world began to spin again.

There they were. The entire flock had climbed into the cattle trailer for the night. Apparently they had discovered the cattle trailer while we were gone and learned that it was a nice place to get in out of the rain. (They had also discovered the breezeway between the house and the garage and the couch in the breezeway.)

So all was well in our world again, but I learned an important lesson my flock. Certain animals are just livestock, but some animals are more than that. 

 

They are friends.

 

Sidenote:  Other Half told me later that he was most disgusted that someone would steal the entire flock and not take "that damned white dog."

Clearly he has taken leave of his senses.
 

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 12:01 pm   |  Permalink   |  5 Comments  |  Email
Comments:
Does he really dislike Briar that much? She is my pinup dog and I reckon she is doing her job including minding the house. I know I feel a little unprotected with out my young Maremma male. The old girls are some deterrent but are asleep a lot.
Posted by Liz (Vic Aust) on 07/27/2013 - 06:22 PM
Not fair! You shouldn't scare the s*** out of me like that. Meanwhile, you are behind in updates about all the goats -- shaking finger at you. Your punishment for that scare is a long description with new photos about the goats with special emphasis on the one who provided the milk for the lovely soap you sent me.
Posted by Terri's Pal on 07/29/2013 - 02:54 AM
Hahahaha! Good point. I do need to give an update on the goats. That's a good idea for the next blog post!
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 07/29/2013 - 12:56 PM
He doesn't really hate Briar that much, but he isn't a big fan of my beloved big white dog because he doesn't like fluffy dogs and he REALLY doesn't like her beard. It grosses him out when she drinks and that water stays in her beard. I find it adorable. I think Briar is the prettiest of dogs. He complains that Briar is dirty. I point out that she is an OUTSIDE dog and if he wants her clean then I can make her INSIDE dog. That pretty much ended that discussion!
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 07/29/2013 - 01:00 PM
I love it. Make her an inside dog. I have never had a scare like that with livestock. But I too had a big white dog. He was an Akita. He had been born nearly blind, but in my yard you wouldn't have known. I tried to make him an inside dog for years but he had a lot of issues with sounds inside. He also had hip issues and did better outside. He was an amazing watch dog. He had different barks for different threat levels. I still miss him.
Posted by Nicole Lynn on 07/30/2013 - 03:42 PM

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