It’s over and out for Roger the Ram

Feb 19 2008 by Liz Shankland, Western Mail

It may be the month when love is in the air, but the ewes have said farewell to their male companion

ALL good things must come to an end, and Roger the ram’s reign as head of the flock ended on Sunday, when we took him home to Bridgend for a well-earned rest.

His work was completed weeks and weeks ago, but all that prolonged wet weather meant our fields were completely waterlogged and getting him loaded into a trailer was out of the question.

It’s incredible the difference a fortnight of good drying-out weather can make to an impassable quagmire and, although we’ve still got lots of boggy no-go areas, most of the fields are driveable now.

Gerry and I managed to get Roger into the trailer pretty easily, with the aid of a bag of feed. When he arrived with us, back in November, he was understandably a bit flighty and nervous, but I’ve got an awful feeling that now he’s turned into a big softie. He loves people and enjoys being made a fuss of, and he has no fear of dogs, going up to them for a good old sniff if they’ll let him. And I’ve seen him taking a bit of a beating from Ugly Betty, our biggest and oldest ewe.

Quite what his owner Phil will think when he discovers these personality changes, I don’t know. Still, as a proper farmer, he’s probably got plenty of other things to be worrying about.

When we pulled up at his farm, he was there with his sleeves rolled up and a bucket of hot water, ready to carry out my least favourite procedure: pushing a couple of prolapsed vaginas back into two young ewes. It was a horrible flashback to last year – my first year of lambing on the smallholding – and a reminder not to be complacent about the weeks ahead. One of the ewes expecting twins had a huge prolapse last April and, despite successfully wrestling the football-size protrusion back into place and treating with antibiotics, she died two days later.

You’d think an experience like that would be enough to put anyone off lambing, but your attention is soon diverted to other things, like healthy lambs being born, a sight to lift the heaviest of hearts. It’s a bit like going through childbirth; when you’re screaming with previously unimaginable pain, you wonder why you ever let yourself get into that situation, and you swear you’ll never do it again; then, a few hours later, the memory starts to fade a little, and you can’t understand why you felt the urge to yell so much and attack anyone who came between you and your gas and air.

This may sound a bit mean, but seeing an experienced breeder faced with two prolapses gave me a bit of encouragement. Now I know it can – and does – happen to anyone, however proficient. At least I’ve been through it once, so I know what to expect. Mind you, I couldn’t have got through last year’s nightmare without the help of Phil on the phone, guiding me through the process like a pilot explaining to a complete novice how to land a plane plummeting to the ground. Phil runs lambing courses aimed at smallholders (ring 01443 229 203, or see www.downtoearthuk.net for details) and I can honestly say they gave me a huge amount of confidence. If he wasn’t so busy with his own livestock, I think he should consider hiring out his services in another way. He could be the Flying Shepherd, paid a retainer to be on standby should some hapless smallholder find themselves out of their depth. There’s nothing like having an experienced pair of hands when you really need them.

Much as I love talking to Phil, I hope I don’t have to ring him too much during this year’s lambing. He reckons our lambs could start arriving as early as April 8. I was thinking at least a week or two later, because I thought it would have taken Roger a few days to get to know my ewes before getting down to business. Apparently not. Those Bridgend boys, eh?

You can write to Liz Shankland c/o Western Mail, Blue Street, Carmarthen SA31 3LQ. Please enclose an SAE for a reply. Or email downtoearthliz@ hotmail.co.uk