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We lost our lovely Ryo Okhi. 14 years old and looking like 5 until the last few months, she astounded the vets at her yearly checkups with her health and condition. She finally succumbed to stomach cancer, and I miss her little face peering over the dinner table every night.
She knew the difference between putting stuff on the table and setting the table, and the moment the table was set she'd be occupying one of the seats ready for a share of whatever was on the menu.
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We've been hand feeding for what feels like forever, but is probably since early summer last year, making it coming up to 12 months. That has meant alot of hay being brought in, which is probably a real bonus for the soil since it's very much a net import of nutrients. Fifty years of this and some decent rain and we might actually have soil instead of sand. You soon realise the difference generations of enriching a farm can make as opposed to generations of stripping it...
In the meantime the sheep love to assist with unloading each batch of hay. They frantically eat as much as they can reach before it's all stored and then climb all over the trailer and ute looking for the scraps. As you can see they're not actually starving (bowling ball being the average body shape) but I think it's all about having something to do. Or "enrichment" as they call it in zoos.
This is Tiger wondering whether Geoff is more interesting than the hay.
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Cleo was the last to lamb in this batch. Benny, her first lamb, is a big lumbering un-fussed wether. His little siblings are Joseph and Pogo, a slightly more flighty brother and sister pair. They both have the family ears :-)
