The wanderer returns

It's tup time, so the wanderer would of course be a sheep - well? wouldn't it? After all, sheep are wandering with a mission at the moment, either ewes looking for a fella or the tup looking for a floosie. We are just getting into second time over on the hill tupping front and I would imagine all shepherds have their fingers crossed that there won't be too many ewes a wandering; looking for a fella to fulfill their desires. Now the boys ought to be wandering, desperate to find that elusive ewe who slipped the net first time over and desires the company of an amorous male. Time will tell just how the boys faired first time around.

You may have noticed Shep has been missing for a spell, I did make the return trip from Dalmally away back when (so long ago I can barely recollect) and since then there has been much to do and coupled with the fact there was no broadband connection for a fair duration this blog has found itself put on the back burner so to speak. Hopefully some normality may return, I once again have contact with the outside world which is a godsend as the weather has been somewhat arctic of late, making travelling and visiting a no go for those of us who are wusses on the roads, unless they are perfectly dry and the sun is shining!

Shep hasn't had time to partake in any winter sports, it's fair to say that a fear of 'getting hurt' would probably ensure I wouldn't wish to partake in any winter sports other than making a snowman, but regardless, there hasn't been time for such frivolities to date. I did manage a little bit of sledging however..........

Tup harnesses - awful things! A contraption worn by the tup (sire), strapped around his belly and shoulders to keep a coloured crayon in place on his brisket. Why? Well, when he jumps up onto a ewe he very kindly leaves a crayon mark behind to confirm he served her ( it is hoped that is what it confirms, in reality it only tells you he jumped up onto her back).

It is fair to say that over the years Shep has had little to do with tup harnesses, hill tups rarely get strapped up, it seems to be some form of in - bye bondage, the hill lads aren't into that fancy stuff!

It was necessary this tup time for Shep to strap a suffolk tup into his breeding attire, now that in itself was a challenge, working out where all the straps went around his huge bulk. He wasn't even a friendly beast, and had me dancing around the pen as some form of shepherd baiting took place, his head was definitely harder than my legs. It was a relief to get him backed into a corner and tied around the neck to a rail in the pens, my legs might get to see another day and not find themselves snapped like matchsticks.

Unfortunately, squashed up to the railings in the sheep pens meant only one side of him was free to work on at a time, so the battle ensued to get tup harness contraption untangled and re tangled around this heavyweight chap. There was much chuntering and head scratching went on I can assure you and after a fair duration I concluded that all lose ends were tied up and the crayon was in the correct place, right between his front legs sitting on his brisket - success!

It was a huge relief to release the chap to a field full of ewes and let him get on with the job in hand.

Two days later I noticed something was amiss, a ewe that had been 'served' seemed to have a crayon mark on her hip rather than on her rump and sure enough good old friendly suffolk tup was tracked down and it was noticed he was now wearing his crayon under his nearside lisk (okay, simple terms - left hand arm pit!). More head scratching ensued, from Shep, not the tup. How on earth did that happen? Pretty obvious really, my incompetence at dressing the beast had caught me out - humph!

I was going to have to get a hold of the fella and redress the situation. Memories of shepherd baiting flashed back in an instance, this fella really didn't appreciate the feminine touch the first time, he probably wasn't gonna walk up to me in the field and ask for assistance was he? The sheep pens were a fair old distance away, the roads were solid ice with a  covering of snow and any vehicles brave enough to face the treacherous conditions wouldn't be happy to find a shepherd and flock of sheep on the road would they?

Not to worry, I'm sure greed would get the better of the fella, a bag of cake would surely take his attention long enough for me to be able to get a hold and so I duly returned with a bag of cake (sheep feed). The ewes soon came forward and started guzzling the pile I laid on the snowy frosty ground, the tup? well of course, he held back, suspicious, memories of being tied up in the sheep pens fresh in his mind. - Humph!

More piles of sheep feed laid out, in a tight circle, more ewes guzzling............... eventually he couldn't help himself and did indeed come forward and joined in with the feeding frenzy, unfortunately every time I felt I was slowly closing in with bag in hand as a decoy he backed off, neither of us really wishing to get to close to one another.

I concluded I was going to have to spring into action, attempt my infamous rugby (sheep) tackle and hold on for grim death until he succumbed under my enormous weight - easy!

More little piles of cake were laid out in an increasingly smaller circle, yet more ewes guzzled and finally he dropped his head in amongst the melee, I pounced, fingers locked around the harness which was strapped around his chest and off we went. I tried desperately to throw all my weight upon him and wished instantly that I'd had enough common sense to have started this daring ambush on the level, not the steep as he careered down hill, his 100kg bulk gaining speed with every stride with me skidding along beside him on my belly, side, back,...... bouncing off every frozen bumpy bit hidden under the covering of snow that the field seemed to possess (why is it fields look flat and smooth?), it seemed every angular bit of my body was managing to clatter against something frozen and hard as I trailed along at increasing speed and totally out of control of the situation.

I dare say teeth were clenched, I know there were no swear words uttered, it took me all my time to get my breath, steely determination set in as we neared the roadside, fortunately the roads were very poor for driving upon so hopefully no one would be trundling by, but I could still feel my pride hurting. Time to take control, I managed to swing my legs past his and he cowped (fell) over, there was a huge feeling of relief, elation and success which quickly evaporated and was replaced with a deep feeling of despair as I found myself lying there and with the tup up on his feet and his heels kicking up dust (snow) as he disappeared into the distance, harness flapping around his lugs (ears). The strap had snapped, pulled out of my hands and left me quite literally downtrodden - so much for sledging!

Moral of the story? The lazy mans way isn't always the easiest........... he found himself gathered up, out onto the roads and down to the sheep pens, tied to the rails and sorted. He's never come forward for the cake bag since!

Tup sale madness - Dalmally tup sale 2013

For a number of years now Shep has had a wish to head to Dalmally tup sale, it's up there somewhere in Scotland, a long way away no doubt, not as far as Lairg it is fair to say but it always seems to crop up at a time when farmers are desperate for work to be done and Shep's ability of saying "no" is not a strong point, such a short word but one which doesn't fit into my vocabulary very easily.

Last year I was going, come hail or high water nothing would stop me, I was going - end of story! Until that is the 'phone call arrived, desperate farmer desperately seeking assistance and no where to fit him in other than the couple of days I had allowed myself to sneak off into Scotland, my resolve broke, I gave in and spent the time fighting with sheep instead of doing what I had hoped to be doing.

Now a friend took note of this and vowed she would ensure I got to attend this year. She succeeded. Even though I came up with excuses of pressures of work etc., none of it washed and dragged away I was. There is much to be said for friends. Life is too short, we need to live for today, don't put off for tomorrow. A difficult line to follow when you never wish to let people down who need your assistance but I guess sometimes we need to be selfish and do things we would like to do. Dalmally was one of those instances. I am very grateful to my friend for her persistence and for organising the B&B and for doing the driving, I am so pleased I got up there to the tup sale.

So why Dalmally?

 

There were actually a specific run of tups I wished to see, off a farm called Dalchirla. I had heard much about these sheep, many by homebred sires, often known to fetch what I could only describe as ridiculous prices

 

On the day this particular farm had 34 Shearling tups entered and 5 tup lambs. The shearlings were pretty much like peas in a pod, the handful here were later in the draw, it was too difficult to photograph the tups in the first few pens for the number of people looking at them.

There were some more than useful tups on show on the day from a number of farms, Shep was quietly impressed with what she was seeing that's for sure.

 

The ring was a strange shape, it was actually an oblong, seating was limited also. On first getting a seat in the ring I found myself in a position where you could rarely see the sheep, they were entering the ring to my right and trying to exit in the same place, very few came into the centre of the ring to be viewed with the result that the next time I hunted for somewhere to sit I took up this position in the hope I may see more and not just hear the auctioneer.

As for the photographs? They all seem to have a strange hue about them. Once again I had forgotten my camera and commandeered my friends which for some reason took the photos with a pinky/purply cast to them - apologies!

Anyhow, back to the tup sale.

There were tups of all ages present for sale on the day, Shearlings, aged tups and tup lambs. The catalogue stated that tup lambs would be sold in number two ring, Shep struggled to find number two ring and finally wandered away down the pens until she could move no further for people. Number two ring had actually been converted from the penning areas, it wasn't a ring as I was accustomed to, but at least I found it. The next problem was finding somewhere to view the proceedings.

I got my eye on a photographer I know who was perched up behind the auctioneer, I gave him a tug on the trouser leg and asked if I could climb up beside him and balance on the pen rails just behind him, he raised his arms to take photographs and I snook shots from below his armpits, just as well he didn't suffer from B. O. !

 

I had expected the shearlings might have been making 'silly' money, I actually hadn't realised until I got to Dalmally that Dalchirla sold lambs. It was the lambs which drew the attention of the buyers. Blimey! It was well worth seeing and hearing it has to be said.

 

This chap realised £90,000 . He is a lamb, born this spring, approxiamtely 6 months old. His twin was next into the ring and made £60,000. That is £150,000 off one ewe.

 

The auctioneer had no problems getting folks to bid, that's for sure! It was almost a disappointment when another lamb in the pen only made £24,000!

 It was for this that I had always wanted to head up to Dalmally, to see for myself, take in the buzz. There was a round of applause when the sale of the lamb concluded, a new lamb record for the centre, a price which matched the centre record for a shearling, which had also been sold off Dalchirla a few years previous. Probably a new record for a pair of twins reared off one ewe............ All very impressive. There is much to be said for a farmer to be able to sell 34 shearlings which averaged over £2,000 each and five lambs which averaged over £35,000 each. A farmer who is consistently at the top, think of Dalmally and you think of Dalchirla.

 

Before we left the mart to head home I shot off to the lamb pen, only these three remained, the one standing is the chap who made the most.

 

I'm pleased my friend ensured I got up to Dalmally, I take my hat off to a man who is consistently at the top of the tree but I can't help but question these silly prices. The lamb was bought by a consortium of farmers, they share the price between them, they are seeking to breed what they deem the perfect blackfaced sheep, they want the bloodlines and genetics of this particular specimen but what do the headlines tell the housewife on the street? Sheep trade has dropped quite dramatically this back end, fat and store lambs are well back on the trade of last year.

Those rearing sheep on a commercial basis are finding their incomes are less than last year, the weather has been down rightly atrocious this year and at a cost. A cost to the housewife and the farmer. Food will be dearer, both on the supermarket shelves and the feed sheds on the farms. How can the sheep sector justify the headlines in the press which boast record prices for tups? What does the normal person on the street think of it all? How can we expect any sympathy for the difficulties which face our livestock sectors, our sheep farmers who all so often seem to be battling against the odds?

These huge figures for breeding sheep go around in the same circles, those buying this lamb will hopefully see a return by selling sheep in the future at silly prices themselves, basically it gives a false impression of our sheep farming in general but unfortunately it is an impression which makes headlines, headlines which confuse the general public and leave them with little sympathy for the plight of farmers. 

 

Tup sale mayhem.......

Shep has been attending many tup sales in the past few weeks, trailing the countryside, sometimes singly, other times in company. Lockerbie in the south of Scotland was the first port of call, twice in actual fact, both times to view cheviots but two different types of cheviot, the northie type and the southie type, 'tis the latter which I have a personal penchant for. From Lockerbie the next port of call was slightly higher up in Scotland to Lanark, blackfaces this time, then a couple of days later higher up into Scotland again to Dalmally, blackfaces once again before heading south to my home ground of Hexham and guess what? Yes! More blackface tups.

 There is a reason for titling this posting as I have, a marathon may have been a more apt description but as is Shep's want I did indeed as usual manage to cause some sort of mayhem - there's just nowt simple in life sometimes! It is fair to say that the two trips to Lockerbie passed by without too much of an adoo, but then I was travelling singularly and only had myself to please. It was the trip to Lanark which caused much commotion..........

 Arrangements had been made for me to pick up a friend at 5.30am at a lay by some twenty minutes from where I live, we were to travel for an hour before leaving my motor at 6.30am and jumping in with someone else. This arrangement necessitated Shep being up by 4.30am - nae bother!

 Umm...... Did I say nae bother?

 The day previous Shep found herself working into the dark of night, on leaving the job I had been at I then found myself having to make an unexpected detour to get home, with the result I arrived home, cold, tired dirty and the night was clocking on. But not to worry, a quick shower and off to bed was the order of the day. Umm......... I now have a new abode, one with a shower! A new abode which experienced many plumbing issues. Plumbing issues which at the time were being rectified as my landlord had the plumbers in rectifying.......... They hadn't however warned me I would have a night without hot water (this is generous as to this date luke warm water was more apt). You may recall I'd stated I arrived home rather late and was COLD, tired and dirty. The thought of a cold shower really didn't instill much enthusiasm into my soul! I would trot down to the farm and 'beg' a shower - they were out for the night (how dare they!) I trotted back home again. Boiled the kettle, filled the sink and commenced trying to remove sheep shit, only to find the water was disappearing at a rate of knots - yet another plumbing issue, plug too small for plug hole!

 I went to bed, hot water bottle freshly filled, peg on nose so I couldn't smell myself and all would be well. Alarm set for 4.30am, 'phone calls had been made for the final arrangements in the morning all I had to do was wake up.

 I did wake up! It's usually a good feeling, to know you're still alive, wasn't such a good feeling this particular morning tho' as I was awoken by my 'phone ringing down stairs, not by my alarm going off. The voice on the other end enquired whether I was alright, I had noticed the clock as I scurried down the stairs 10 to 6 it registered in my brain 10 to 6 ! Shit! I was meant to be picking someone up at 5.30........

 'Twas that someone who was on the 'phone, they told me the stars were bright and it was a lovely morning to be standing in a lay by for the last half hour.

 Mayhem ensued, Shep flinging clothes on, attempting to ring the next port of call where we were expected to arrive at by 6.30am........... OH!

There is no doubt about it I had a red face for the remainder of the day. All concerned were extremely kind and patient it has to be said, we did get to Lanark, we even got there before the sale started, we even managed a hurried breakfast on arrival in the canteen - an absolute godsend as Shep was desperate for that first coffee of the morning!

There was much leg pulling for the duration of our trip. Upon arrival two of us headed for the ladies the other to the gents and then met up in the canteen, the gent was then given a blow by blow account of how Shep had tried to have a bath in the hand basin in the ladies loos.......... y'know, there are friends and then there are friends! This was followed by the promise of a pair of braces for Christmas........... I may blush too much if I tell the full story but it has to do with knicker elastic! It doesn't pay to throw clothes on in a hurry, that's for sure!

There were many local faces which I bumped into whilst at Lanark and they all seemed to be aware that I had indeed slept in, probably because most of them had been asking my friend what she was doing loitering in a lay by in the dark hours of the morning.............

Not to worry, there was a great deal of laughter during the day, tups were succesfully purchased and transported home and a good day was had by all. Fortunately when travelling to Dalmally we went up the night previous, probably to ensure Shep didn't sleep in......!

Now Hexham tup sale sailed by without too much trouble, except......... I always have a dentist appointment on tup sale day, coz I know I'll be in town that day, it won't interfere with work, sensible idea I'd thought. Shep hadn't made a note of the time of the appointment and as it had been made on the back of the lambing that was a long time ago. Mid morning saw me ring the dentist and enquire as to what time I was expected later that afternoon. "last Monday at 4pm" was the reply I received "are you sure, it's always tup sale day" I said, the second Monday of the month - that's today!"  "It's the third Monday of the month today" "Oh! Is it? I'm very sorry......."

Now I know I'm heading to that age for suffering from 'senior moments' but can anyone explain why the tup sale which is always held on the second Monday in October decided to be on the third Monday or am I really losing my marbles?

Gannin's on.........

Blimey! We're up to the 13th October already........... What on earth do I do with my time?

Life has been hectic on the Shep front. Not all hard graft it is fair to say, this is being written upon my return from a 36 hour busmans holiday. A tup sale none the less, one which I wanted to attend last year and failed and one which a friend at the time vowed she would make sure I got to attend this year. My excuses of being too busy, couldn't fit it in didn't wash with her with the result being we set off yesterday - Friday 12th Oct and headed north, into Scotland and kept driving north until we reached an area close to Oban on the north west.

A night in a very comfortable B&B with a canny crack with a Canadian and German  couple over breakfast (neither of whom knew what a tup was or could comprehend why we would be so excited to be attending a tup sale) then saw us heading to the auction mart at Dalmally, a very interesting day ensued, some good sheep were viewed with us leaving at about 4pm, before the sale was finished, to head south again. Shep may have been on a skive but a necessity to set away to work tomorrow morning (Sunday) at 7.30am meant it was necessary to get home and get sorted.

On Thursday past Shep had headed north again, to a tup sale none the less. Lanark this time and once again to view blackfaced sheep. I had worked on the Wednesday though - honest! and the 14 days previous.

So, it is the sale season. Shep attended Lockerbie South Country Cheviot tup sale on the 1st October and enjoyed tagging along and passing comment on a number of sheep.  4th October was the Hexham Ewe Sale day, once again in attendance, although 'working' but enjoyable all the same, trade wasn't as strong as some would have liked but sheep got sold all the same. 11th Oct was Lanark tup sale and then Dalmally today. Tomorrow (Monday 15th) is Hexham tup sale - phew!

In between gadding about to sales there have been sheep to dress and sort, sheep to gather and keel and dose, the tailing season has also commenced, time to remove wool off tails in preparation for the tups going out - it would seem to be never ending!

There have been plumbers in at my new abode, I now have pleasantries such as hot water, a loo which flushes and bath taps that water comes out of - life is full of surprises!! Unfortunately it would seem that a plumbers remit does not include tidying up after themselves with the result there is much housework to attend to. (someday....)

Life is hectic on many fronts. There are photos from Dalmally and when time allows I'll get them posted, for the time being I'm heading for bed, time is ticking on, I have had an embarrassing 'sleeping in' episode this past week and don't need another. Sheep suffering from fluke infestation require my assistance tomorrow so bed it is for now, this is just a very quick update of the 'gannins on'.

Close encounter

The day the old tups went through the pens the youngsters also found themselves having a trip around the pens. Tup hoggs, last years lambs, hopefully going to grow out and become breeding tups themselves. These fellas are spoilt somewhat, living indoors in comfort. A shed, with straw to lie on, hay to eat and sheep feed in troughs, giving them an opportunity to grow into strong adult sheep, or so it is hoped.

Once again young Kale found himself the dog of the moment, learning the ropes in the pens, teaching the hoggs how to respect a dog at the same time. He was in his element! All other dogs barred up he was having a one to one with me and close encounters with sheep. A happy young dog.

He truly did have a close encounter, this one tup hogg seemed to be intrigued by this big black hairy creature which was hanging around, the others weren't too impressed with the idea but this young guy was bolder, going where no tup has gone before!

I watched almost spell bound as I really wasn't sure what young Kales reaction would be, he has never had a tup (albeit a tup hogg) come up to him to make friends before, I have to admit I half expected him to have a mouthful of tup but no, he just stood and took it like a man.

My imagination started to wander and the more I look at this picture the more I wonder what the young sheep was saying to the young dog. Whatever it was it did the young dog the power of good, he didn't back off with fear, neither did he lurch forward to give fear, he just took the encounter in his stride. I was impressed.

Kales reward was to be asked to move the tup hoggs further up the pens, to show his authority, act like a sheepdog, go around the back of them and push them further up to the working pen. A reward which he seemed to appreciate.

Tups off

Aye, the boys are back home, they've had their fun for the year, it's now all over for another year and gathered in they are. Not everyone fetches their tups in, some seem to leave them running with the flock, I've never been accustomed to this, the tups would always be fetched off the ewes, you always knew when the lambing would draw to a close, it can help the sanity in the spring, knowing that the lambing will come to an end.

Once all gathered in off the ewes the boys found themselves going through the sheep pens. A bit of a health check was required. Much to young Kales pleasure, he found himself with the opportunity of working in the pens or ought that be learning in the pens?

Some of the fellas found themselves heading off for a journey to the mart, never to be seen again, they may have been old sheep or maybe just spares which had been kept should an emergency arise at tup time, regardless, if they are no longer wanted there is no point in feeding them, off they went.

Those remaining found themselves walking through a footbath, horns checked and sorted (will write about this sometime), dosed and of course squirted for lice, although they seem to show no outward signs they will indeed be infested, the ewes were so the tups will be also.

Tups in a tight area are not always the safest of creatures, young Kale found himself on the wrong side of the gate on purpose, his enthusiasm could see him hurt, if not him then probably me. There are some bolshy characters and I didn't wish to see either the young fella or myself get injured. He watched the proceedings with great interest and a longing...

Finally all the doings to the fellas had been done, left to stand on concrete for a short while to allow the chemical which was in the footbath to soak into their feet, odd ones started to hold a foot up - a good sign, obviously they had a touch of scald (similar I guess to athletes foot), for all they had been showing no outward signs, in other words weren't limping, they must have been starting with something, the bath would hopefully sort this up and prevent it from worsening.

The last of these boys were fetched off the ewes on 4th January, allowing the five months less five days thing you would say the ewes would cease lambing at the end of May, however, we all know that some carry their lambs over their due dates, it will be fair to say that by the end of May/beginning of June there'll be nowt left to lamb - hurray! But then these sheep wont be bothering Shep as she heads elsewhere to go lambing.

The boys eventually found themselves returned to their pasture

much to young Kales delight, as he found himself being allowed to pretend to be a sheepdog, he hasn't had the work he ought to have over tup time but proved to be enthusiastic and willing when given his chance.

He can run faster than I of that there is no doubt, still learning the ropes he did very well with the boys. They are ideal to work a young dog on, due to their bolshyness as much as anything, they can teach a keen fella a bit of respect, whilst the keen fella also teaches the boys a bit of respect, the arrangement works quite well.

The boys get their reward for the inconvenience caused to them, Kale received a well deserved pat for listening and learning and walked out of the field feeling he'd achieved something.

tup fight

Tups a fighting leads to a tup fight! A chance arose to photograph what I had written about in the previous posting.

These boys look like they're just standing a bit close to one another when in actual fact they are sizing each other up, beginning to grumble

Not feeling too chuffed to see one another, they had just been brought in off the ewes where both sheep had been top tup, bullying any others they had been sharing the ewes with

they were both determined that they would still be top tup, shouldering on with each other, the scrum had begun, pushing their weight around hoping to sicken on or the other off

A head lock ensued but was to be short lived

They parted and stepped back from one another before charging forward

The battle had begun, only a fool would step between them

A resonating thud as heads connected

momentum sending the head down as the hind legs rose

The photographer was beginning to get nervous, neither tup was prepared to stand down, the fight was getting ugly

All tups were barred up tight in a small pen, no room for them to run back from one another then charge, they would have to be content with shoving their weight around instead until their humours lightened and they agreed to disagree like gentlemen

scarred from battle the boys were left to cool down, accept their fate and accept one another. They had lived together happily up until 17 days previously, they needed to learn to do the same once again.

They may get a chance to go to ewes again next year or they may find themselves sold through the mart but hopefully they wont find themselves going off in the dead cart due to a duel to the death