Find a penny, pick her up

by Gloria Richards Steiger on Sunday, 15 January 2012 at 7:56pm

Preface: Penny got really scared one of her first days at the house (we weren't even letting them out of the stall yet) and she pushed out of the stall and when we tried to move her back into the barn, she bolted. It was pure inexperience on my part. I didn't know sheep language at all and I underestimated her panic button. She couldn't find her way back because she didn't know where home was. And she was scared by the hunters.

 

It was, of course, the coldest day of the season today, negative ten or so overnight and TWO this morning.  :)  I went out this morning as early as I could stand because I was worried about Penny being out in that cold all alone.  I am used to the walk now and used to the cold and the carrying of grain and hay and water.  I got down to the little yard Penny had chosen and there she was, looking for me.  I brought the water down and worried a little because she had not drunk any before it froze overnight.  I had decided the day before that she was not getting any grain if she didn't go into the crate.  This morning, she wouldn't go in at all with me nearby, so I had my little sheep catching tantrum and decided she couldn't have any grain unless she ate it in the crate with me RIGHT THERE.  Well, as usual with animals and children, impatience is useless.  She wouldn't go in with me there.  So I shut the crate and left the grain there, hoping a little crabbily that she would LOOK at the grain and wish for it while I was gone.  I left hay and water for her and went home.

I returned at two, more patient and feeling a little guilty for being so mean about the grain this morning.

I did the water, put more grain in the crate, opened the door, held onto the rope, and waited for her.  She wouldn't go in.  I shook the grain, went back around, held the rope.  She wouldn't go in.  I lay down on the snow.  Looked at the sky.  She ambled over and went into the crate.  I peeked at her.  BAM, out of the crate and across the yard.  I shook the grain, lay back down, looked at the sky, and closed my eyes.  I heard her go in and I peeked to see where she was.  BAM, out of the crate and across the yard.  We repeated this ridiculousness several times, until I realized I couldn't peek.  So I lay down and told myself I would count to sixty twice and if she had not gone back in, I could go home.  Closed my eyes.  One one thousand, two one thousand.... I started visualizing her in there really crunching on the grain and enjoying it.  I visualized Beryl in there with her, warm and cozy and safe.  thirty, one thousand, thirty one one thousand...  risked a quick peek and she was not in.  Kept counting and resolved to just keep my darned eyes CLOSED.  No peeking.  I visualized the crunching of all that beautiful grain and Beryl and Juliet looking at her with their calm sheep eyes and decided that when it felt right I would close the door.  At number forty-seven, it felt right so I pulled the rope, felt her against it, and opened my eyes.  I was absolutely SHOCKED to find her inside the crate and the door was holding.

My adrenalin was through the roof.  My legs were shaking, arms weak.  I held onto that rope and wrapped it about ten times all the way around the crate.  She panicked and tried to jump through the roof.  So I laid half over it and called Tim on my phone.  Then I called Mark (friend whose horse I train) and they all came with tools and ropes and four wheeler and truck and together we carried her out of the woods.

She is in the barn with the other sheep and with Hagrid tonight.  She is separate from them but we will gradually bring them all together.  She has hay and water and a nice helping of sweet feed.  I am so glad she is safe... and I can't believe I got her in that crate by visualizing her safely eating good food.  Good sheep.

 

A Penny Earned. . . .

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