The tragedy continues...
We finished up Savvy's shearing the other day. We caught her, put the halter on her knucklehead, and led/dragged her over to the big dog yard. There's grass to eat there, and no loose straw, so it seemed smart. Freaked her out, though, and Tricks ran back and forth in the pasture, mehing worriedly.
The sheep shears, sharpened again, were dull as ever. So we used the hair scissors. Again. It was unpleasant for all of us, took forever, and the mosquitos were out in force. And just as one side and her back were done, Savvy broke loose, knocked me on my can, and took off, dragging her big lovely loose fleece across the yard. Wisps of wool were strewn all over. It was my fault – I let go. I knew better. C. told me sheep psychology consists of two things: rattle grain in a can, and don't let go. Oh, and make yourself big when you herd them by holding your arms out. Three things.
So we eventually caught her and finished the job. The mosquitos were epic. I led/dragged her back to the barn. C. collected the fleece bits.
The sheep is still pissed, though I offer grain and sweet talk.
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