From the Archives:  June, 2012–Sheer Madness

It’s been two days and I am still sore as hell.  I feel like I ran the NFL combine and trust me, I’m in no shape to run the NFL combine.  Sunday was “sheering day” here that the Lazy Lamb Ranch.  Sheering Day is a fancy name for giving all of our ewes fairly butch haircuts that would make Sinead O’Connor look like a wookie.  We’re not going for style points here.  Most of the ewes walking around today looked like Helen Keller got straight busy on them after a bottle of bourbon and a basket of chili fries.  But–most importantly–they’re comfortable.

Temperatures are cool right now, with daily highs in the mid 50’s.  Early May, however, saw high 70’s and even temperatures in the 80’s with very little rain. By late June, temperatures will hit high 80’s and so on.  While some of you might actually pay money to sweat somewhere uncomfortable for any myriad reasons, our ewes a) can’t sweat because they’re ruminants and b) are covered in the thickest wool coats money can’t buy.  Image walking around in two of your heaviest fleece jackets with matching pants in 80 degree weather.  Not comfortable.  Now imagine I held you down as Jake slowly shaved off those jackets, trying desperately not to nick you with the clippers as we roll you around, dropping f-bombs as you occasionally kick your hooves into Jake’s cash and prizes.  Eureka!

But wait, there’s more.  You, a 250lb Suffolk ewe with lambs to protect and enough muscle to tow a truck, aren’t really down with the sheering program.  At this point you don’t even know what’s going on, you just notice that your friends are being carried into a stable against their will and coming out looking very trim.  You also notice that after they walk out, they look around a little confused and systematically pee, then poop, before coming to their senses and continuing grazing.  You are the biggest ewe of the flock and you have a reputation of holding your ground.  You once took Jake for a 20 yard ride through the pin when he thought he could put an ear tag on you.  Two months later, still no ear tag.  You are ewe #69 and you are not to be trifled with.

You are standing your ground in the corner as Jake, Ross, Coach and Buck are closing in on you.  You choose the biggest gap which is between Ross and Jake and you pin the throttle, lowering your head as you reach full sprint.  Ross lowers the leg crook, a silly device that is comprised of a long handle and a metal hook on the end.  He is able to snag your back leg with it but you aren’t slowing down because you have a reputation to uphold and you hate those haircuts.  Your lambs cheer you on as you speed by.   Ross holds on to the crook for dear life and looks as though he just caught hold of a freight train, sailing horizontally like superman, landing in a the dirt and sheep pellets after about 20 feet of air time.  You calmly walk to the other corner, bleating in triumph with a nod to the lamb gallery.  Ross is slow to get up.  Very slow.  The other guys are laughing hysterically.

Eventually, 69 got her haircut and ironically, she ended up having the easiest wool to trim.  The clippers flew through it and she was in and out in minutes.  But I am still cranking Advil and feel like I got run over by a 250lb ewe with a bad attitude.