Road to the Isles Sheep Champion

Myran Creag Mhor & Creag Mhor himself.


Meet the new overall Sheep champion of the Road to the Isles Agricultural Show.
This was her second outing, her Tup lamb Creag Mhor was second in his class and they make a perfect unit.
It is the first time in the Agricultural Shows 12 years history that a Cheviot has ever won the overall Sheep Champion, this honour is normally bestowed on the Black Face Sheep.
We entered her with her first lamb, she was so well behaved and stood with grace and elegance, I was so surprised as to how well they behaved, I was even more surprised to lift the coveted Trophy.
She was breed on Skye, by Mr & Mrs C Carter of Sarsar Farm in Waternish on the Isle of
Skye, her Sire was owned by Mrs Joyce Campbell of Armadale. Sharon & Claire who were also from the same flock came 2nd & 3rd in their class so we were ecstatic
We spent all of the day before clipping and washing all three sheep and four lambs.
They were like white clouds when we finished with them.
I went into the Byre the next morning to find them all lying down except for Creag Mhor the Tup.
He was trampling all over their backs with his dirty hoofs, he causes so much havoc for such a small thing.
He has even started jumping on my car bonnet he thinks it is great fun to jump on anything and everything at the moment.

Bye Bye Babies

We said good bye to some of our babies on the 1st June 2007.
It was time for some of our cattle to go to market which is the bit I always hate.
I know you are supposed to be hard and some people would say money orientated, but I would keep them all if I could.
We had two bullocks and three heifers plus a three year old Charolais Cross cow in calf to a Limousin Ronwick Iceman.
We spent most of the previous night washing and clipping them, just spending our final hours with them as we always do, talking to them and brushing them up, I now it sounds foolish but that's what we do and I think it settles them down a little bit as they know something is going on.
They are all around about the 9mth old mark and all well behaved.

Trudy the Charolais was the choice between two cows, we have not got enough room for her and she would not tie in a stall.
She is a bit of a bully with the younger ones and was not frightened to put her head down to you on the odd occasion so we decided to keep old faithful.
She held herself well in the ring and we got a very good price for her, even though my heart sank when the hammer went down.
The good thing is we always make a point of finding out where they are going and who is getting them, she is going to be kept as a breeding cow so I was really happy that she will be going to a new home.

Jasmine was the other one I would have liked to keep, she is a simmental cross, chocolate brown in colour with white patches all over, she is really placid and spoiled.
They were all bidding on her everyone likes a coloured cow, she did best of all in the ring.
She also went to a good home for a breeding cow.
All the Heifers will be used for breeding cows, unfortunately my boys will end up the way all boys do.
We said our final good byes after they had all been sold and told them to be good.
I hate walking away from them I feel like a mother abandoning her children, or having them torn away from me.
Sometimes I feel so empty after they have gone, because you are always looking for them amongst the heard.
It is usually quiet in the car on the way home as we are lost for words.

I always remember my first cattle sale on the way home it was hell, I had a black Aberdeen Angus Cross called Prince, he was Angela's son, he had preformed really well around all of the local Agricultural shows we got a couple of reserve champions with him.
When it was his turn to go to market I cried all night, he had been my pet, always there around your feet.
When he came running into the ring, he slammed on the anchors and looked at all of the faces watching him, he spotted me in the crowd and bellowed continuously until he went out, he never took his eyes of me.
I left the ring with him and followed him to his pen.
I clapped him, brushed him and talked to him, I think he was as heartbroken as I was.
My husband said it was time to go we went to the car I could hear Prince calling they were loading him onto the wagon he spotted me on the way up the ramp, he ran to the back of the wagon and poked his nose out of the little slats on the side, calling all of the time for me to come and get him.
I will never forget how hard it was to walk away from him, I cried for 4 days solid and could not sleep or eat, I still have a little tear for him even whilst I am putting this down in words.
It is the worst thing in the world to feel loss even if it is an animal.
But even if it is only an animal they can give you as much pleasure and happiness than some human beings can.
I would like to think that I am a guardian to all of the animals that are in my care, and as such I have a responsibility to be kind, gently and compassionate towards them.
What we sow in life we will be rewarded for in Heaven as my nan used to say.

A King is Born

Well Miran finally did it, she had her lamb, a little boy the first boy lamb to be born on Creag Mhor Croft.

As you know we are commercial cattle breeders normally, but we took a liking to sheep when I had a couple of pet lambs to rear.

So we ended up with three beautiful pure Hill Cheviot's named Miran, Sharon & Claire.

Sharon had her first lamb a female called teeny, Claire had twin lambs called Poppet & Babs.

Miran had a little boy and we thought it only fitting to call him Creag Mhor Creagy for short.

We had to give a hand to help him into the world as he was so large, his mother was very large so we expected twins but she only had Creagy, both doing really well.

She went into labour in the morning a week last Tuesday, she struggled for a while, we thought it was best to let her have a go herself as nature intended, but after a short while it became obvious that she was not dilating enough to get him out.

So we got the nursing pen ready and put her in.

She was as good as gold, my husband held her and I managed to get my fingers inside to put a small pulling rope around his feet.

We managed to get his feet and nose out but it was a struggle to get his head out.

Once his head was out he popped like a cork out of a bottle, I caught his back legs and give him a little swing to get the mucus from his mouth and nose, as soon as he bleated I knew he was going to be okay.

We laid him in front of Miran and she licked him wildly and made comforting noises all the while.

They all answer to their names and bleat back to you when you call them, they are so entertaining you could watch them all day running around and skipping here and there.

Creagy has decided lately that it is much more comfortable to lay on his mothers back than on the ground, I will try and get a picture later to show because as soon as I approach them he jumps down, but I will prevail as it would be one for the scrap book as they say.

The lambs all have their own personalities already, Babs likes to climb on things, Poppet likes to run and jump about and be the fastest runner as she appears to race the others up and down the field, Teeny is a little shy like her mother Sharon, Creagy is wanting to be boss.

They all come in on an evening, the lambs have not spent a night out yet, we have a few foxes in the area, so we don't leave them out not until they can fend for themselves anyway.

When they are in the pen it is like a frenzied free for all each lamb darting under any mother and sucking which ever teat is available at the moment, that is until the mother realises it is not her lamb sucking, then she walks away, Creagy has been left standing in mid suck with his mouth in a pursed position on many an occasion, it is quite a comical sight to see, but he goes straight back and has another go.

What determination.

Creag Mhor

Sowing The Seeds

Well what can I say, after all my moaning the other week about cold and rain, the weather has surpassed it's self.
We have been basking in glorious sunshine for a few weeks now.
It does the soul good to get those rays after a long dull winter.
You know the feeling when you suddenly notice that the trees are greener the flowers are popping up bringing marvelous colour and scented smells everywhere.
I heard the Cuckoo for the first time this year a week last Saturday, nice to hear him back again.
We have been busy on the Croft this is the time to sow the grass seed and fertilise the ground.
There is plenty of fertiliser to go around I can tell you, especially after the cows have wintered in doors.
We have been having a few problems with our old Massey Ferguson 565, she just seemed to groan and die, so a lot of the work spreading fertiliser, grass seed and such has been manual labour until we can get old faithful going again.
I thought about offering a mechanic a free weeks holiday in our caravan if they could repair it, but my husband said that would be silly, I thought there was no harm in it as they used to barter for everything in the old days, some people still do, never mind it was just a thought.
Anyway we could not miss the window of opportunity where the weather is concerned, so it was all hands to the seed bags pardon the pun.
I must say I did not mind it to much even though it was a long few days of hard slog for us.
It put me in mind of when I was a little girl, my father used to do the same thing.
Then the whole community used to help one another, the women wound make doorstep sandwiches and scones, my auntie was good at making ginger beer, that is something I always remember the taste of ginger beer is totally unique, there is an art to making it and a lot of patience is required, the children would run around causing mayhem laughing and playing, but it was all good fun like a great family picnic, neighbours and friends together.
I remember watching the farm workers walking up and down the fields behind the old hay bailer, building the bails up into haystacks. The summers then seemed to last forever long and hot ah for those lazy hazy days.
Now it is all fend for yourself or be damned.
Anyway I digress, we managed to get the grass seed out the fields will be a lush green before you know it.
The lambs and calves are enjoying the long warm days, the lambs are quite comical they rush about everywhere and jump around, I wish I had that much energy sometimes.
We are still waiting for one of the sheep (Miran) to have here lambs, she must have been shy of the ram, or maybe she didn't like the look of him, never mind he got there in the end!!
We docked the lambs tails last week, I have never docked a lamb tail and I can tell you I felt so sorry for them, I cringed when I had to do it, but it had to be done, it was either that or the rubber ring, which I think is really cruel as that is enduring pain for weeks until the end drops off. At least they will not get caught up in anything now or be prone to infections because they snagged it.
I must say they didn't seem to bother to much about it, I inspect their tails everyday just to make sure the fly's have not infected them.
We called them Poppet because she is always popping up and down, she is not sure if she wants to lie down or stand up, Teeny because she is the smallest and Babs after a good friend of ours who used to baby sit my pet sheep Katie when we went away for the day.
Katie was a pet lamb I hand reared, she died last year, she has been in my thoughts a lot lately, she would follow me everywhere she was like one of the dogs, every time I turned around there she was beside me, she would look up at me and make a small grr kind of noise, just to let me know she was still there.
The calves are all doing well, our big Charolais (Snowy) who is bigger than your average bull I might add, has still not let go of her calf, she is about 10 days late now, sometimes they go with the full moon, that is what they say anyway, I have maybe had the odd one's that have given birth through the night of a full moon, perhaps it is a coincidence, or maybe they are right, I have yet to be convinced.

Long may they continue to gather?

This will take a bit of time to read but it is well worth it.
I wrote it as a tribute to the Shepherds in Newtonmore after my visit with them.
Since then one of the band died last year in an accident more or less in the same place we had our incident.
I would like to think he is still gathering in heaven today.

A couple of Friends of mine invited me along to a sheep gathering in July a couple of years ago in Newtownmore.
As I had never seen this fast dying art I decided to go along and experience the daily toil of the hill Shepherds at first hand.
I arrived in Newtonmore one of my friends was spreading fertilizer. When he had finished we went inside for a bite to eat, we had not been indoors long when the phone rang, one of my friends neighbours was calling to ask if he could give a hand with clipping sheep.
We arrived on their steading about 15:30, I was introduced to the friends and family members of the sheep clippers, I was shown how to roll up the fleece as the shearer's removed them from the sheep, and there was over three hundred to shear. There were four men shearing also a brother and a wife of one of the shearer's sheading the sheep one at a time ready for clipping.
An old shepherd and I who was father to most of the boy's shearing; rolled and bagged the fleece, every thing was ticking away like clock work, all knew their jobs and carried them out with army like precision. The sheep may have protested but I bet they were glad to be a bit lighter, as they sprung through the doors to the outside world like spring lambs to join the rest of the flock.
When we were half way through we stopped for a break, the camaraderie and banter was something to behold, old stories of past clippings and tall tales of men long since past. Hero's of a past age, no longer with us in body, but still there in spirit and mind.
We returned to the matter in hand and finished the next batch of sheep. Once they were all sheared the work did not stop there, we all pulled together and cleared away every bit of wool, not a piece of fleece was left, it was as though no-one had been there at all.
I hung around in the shed for a while, when everyone went outside for tea, it was so quiet inside no sound of bleating sheep, droning of shears, or laughter and chatter, just stillness and silence.
It brought to my mind what feelings and thoughts the Farmers and Crofters must have had in the borders, when they stood in their empty sheds and byres, after their herds and flocks were destroyed because of the foot and mouth disease last year. Now the ravaging serpent of foot and mouth has slipped by how many of them have returned to their trade, picked themselves up and dusted them selves off and started all over again?
I joined the others; they were bragging amongst themselves, of who had sheared the most and the fastest, to tell you the truth I thought they were all champions.
My friend and I left and made plans for the gathering on the mountains the next day; I retired for the evening.
I was rudely awakened by the slamming of a door and dogs barking, I got up to see what it was, my friend was driving down the road in his pick-up, I got myself ready for the busy day ahead of me and waited for my friend to return.
My friend returned a short time later, he said he had been down to feed his calves, it was
now 6:30am.
The weather plays an important part as the sheep are strung out along mountain ranges some people could only dream of climbing or seeing, if the weather is bad it puts the gathering timetable back and the opportunity is lost in an instant.
The morning we intended to go out started with the mountains covered in fog.
The shepherds and I eight in all sat around in our various locations from 6:30arn waiting for a break in the weather.
When the fog started to lift about 11:30am, we set off along an old drovers track in two pickups laden with sheepdogs and men. The drovers track had been used for decades by man and beast and the average person would find it quite hairy to drive any kind of vehicle along these tracks, but these men knew the dips and hollows, every crook and cranny as this had been their way since boyhood. We drove out about two-mile along the old drover's track.
We arrived at our destination, five men and me, ten sheepdogs all different size's and colours, the dogs were running around like exited pups as they knew what was about to come, they sniffed each other running this way and that greeting one another like old friends long missed.
The men plotted out their various courses, who was going to be doing what, where and when, it was like listening to a tactical maneuver. We all set of in the same direction, I asked my friend what the mountain ranges were called, he told me that they were called the Monadhliath Mountains, but the locals called them the Cailleach and the Bodaich, which means old woman and old man in Gaelic.
On the way we chatted about this and that, I asked my friend how many shepherds there were in the area, he told me that once upon a time there was at least sixty, now there are only six, the farming industry is dying.
The young ones move away to get better jobs, once they are away they do not want to come back. I found it all rather sad that generations before him had walked these hills and when he passes it will be split up and sold, as the generations following do not want to carry on the tradition, which is fast becoming a distant memory. I suppose it is like the Shire horses no longer do they till the land because of progress, soon farming will follow in his once proud footsteps.
My friend and his companions climbed steadily through the day heading ever nearer to the top.
The old shepherd took his two dogs and left us a little earlier to move further around the hill to my left, I do not think I am unfit but compared to these men I felt puny. They climbed away never tired or gasping for breath. I on the other hand, felt as though the back of my throat had been scratched by a hungry chicken and that my legs were going to explode, with the lactose I was manufacturing, but I was not going to be defeated by this mountain, I climbed on without complaint.
As we climbed higher the day progressively got worse. My friend said in all the years he had been climbing these mountains he had never seen weather like this.
The mist was getting very thick now; we could only see 20 or 30 feet in front of us, the shepherds knew where they were going, as this has been their stomping ground for years.
We eventually reached the summit; it would have been a glorious view if it had not been for the mist. We reached what they called the picnic area, which was a lot of flat stones that were stood up and laid on the ground in various places, put there by other shepherds and them selves over the years.
I was soon to discover why they were stood up. The wind came howling over the top of the mountain and hit me full force in the face, it was bitterly cold, and we all sat down on the stones which were laid flat and huddled behind the standing stones for shelter from the wind.
We opened up our flasks of hot tea and ate our packed lunches, whilst we waited for the wind and rain to die down.
Further planning of routes to take were being prepared by the men. I could hear the distant sound of a motor, my friend told me it was another shepherd coming from the other side of the mountain on a quad bike, he was to drive the sheep towards our position, and it seemed to be working. In the distance just in eyeshot of the mist I could see a scattering of sheep, they appeared to be staring at us, they were probably wondering what we were doing in the middle of their grazing patch.
Anyway, one of the men decided to try and get behind them with his dogs, he set of and quickly disappeared from sight as the fog was still quite heavy, I asked my friend if he would get lost, he responded no with a grinning face. I forgot that these people have traveled the length and breadth of these mountains most of their lives. My friend told me to stay close as we broke camp, two of the other shepherds went off to my left with their dogs, we set of towards the front of the mountain.
My friend told me to keep the wind on my right cheek whilst we were heading down, just in case I got separated from him, it was not hard to feel the wind as it was taking the skin clean of my cheek. So we all had our courses plotted out we were heading down the mountain in a sort of V shape to capture any sheep in front. It was still difficult to see anything, the shepherds shouted to one another when the wind died a little.
I could hear the old shepherd on the mountainside opposite; he was making his way down the side of his mountain.
The two shepherds that left us at the summit were also calling to the old shepherd; they were just below the mist and could see sheep just disappearing in to the mist on the old Shepherds Mountain.
He sent the dog after them but with the mist being so thick he called the dog back as it was like trying to guide in the dark.
Anyway we all gradually came in to view of one another all spread out over three different parts of the mountainside. It was quite eerie coming out of the wind and mist into the warm sunshine. I could see the whole valley stretched out before me it was a sight that I will never forget, the valley was dotted with white fleeces all heading down hill and bleating in protest as they plodded on.
I stood for a while watching the sheep filter down in to the valley below like small streams heading towards a mighty river, they walked along paths that were cut out of the mountainside by generations of sheep before them.
I could hear whistling sounds echoing around the mountains, from the shepherds guiding their dogs this way and that, steadily pushing the sheep onwards. The hills as they say were alive with music, well to my ears anyway; to the shepherds it was all careful instructions to their four legged friends.
As we moved down into the valley we were soon joined be the old shepherd and his son.
The old shepherd pointed out that the sheep he had tried to bring down earlier had boxed themselves on to a plateau further up the mountain, his son said he would go back up to try and turn them around.
His son made his way back up the side of the mountain; he was quite agile, I found out that he was a stalker, so I suppose he had to be fit. Anyway he reached the spot where the sheep had come to a stop, he made his way around them and sent the dog in after them, some of the sheep were quite stubborn, they started to resist the dog, putting their heads down to him, they were standing then: ground.
One of the sheep made a lunge for the dog; the shepherd called his dog out, as he was standing on the edge of an overhang. As the dog moved out the sheep decided to make a dash for it and a few of them jumped the over hang on to the other side making a dash for the back of the hill. We could not see the son or the dog at this time, then as the sheep were jumping the overhang, one must have miss-footed and fell about 50 feet with another one close behind, at once we all leapt to our feet. We all held our breaths the silence was broken by the old shepherd shouting his son’s name, we all started to shout, then with a great sigh of relief he popped up over the other side of the hill with his dog. For one dreadful moment we thought he had been pushed over the side by one of the sheep.
The two sheep that had fallen off the overhang, were put out of their misery, they had both suffered injuries. It was unfortunate that the sheep had to be destroyed but it would have been cruel to let them suffer.
We all waited for the son to come back down the hill with his dog; we were all relieved to see he was not the one lying at the bottom of the cliff. He explained that he had seen the other sheep running over the top of the hill. He took his dog and tried to cut them off but they beat him to it, then he heard us shouting not knowing what had just happened until he came down and saw the two injured sheep. He put them both to sleep, instead of letting them suffer.
We sat down and had a tea break, talking about the events that had just unfolded, how we all thought the son had fallen, the shock and relief of it all. I could see in his father's face that he was very relieved that his son was not injured.
We set off back down the hill and watched the sheep steadily march on deeper into the valley; we met up with the other shepherds and told them the tale of the miraculous escape.
As we neared our journeys end daylight dwindling, I looked back on the day's events there were highs and lows, but I can truly say I would not have missed it for anything in the world.
As one day all this gathering will be a thing of the past, like so many things that man has started then tossed aside because of progress.
There will be no need for these shepherds in the future. When I look around now there is hardly a sheep to be seen on any hill.
As this once great country begins to import more meat like so many other things that we import farming will be a dying trade, just like the fishing, coal mining and steel industries, the villages that go with them, no hope, no work, no return.
I never thought of the dangers in these mountains, it could be so easy for one of them to get lost in the mist, take a wrong turn and be at the bottom of a cliff.
I take my hat off to these guys for their strength, perseverance, camaraderie and most of all there open armed welcome to a virtual stranger.
I would like to say a warm and heart felt thank you to each and every one of them for a wonderful experience. It will be something I will treasure for the rest of my days.
Long may they continue to gather?
By Anne MacDonald

Global Warming???

What's all this about global warming?
We have had nothing but rain for the past week there is nothing warm about that I can tell you.
The poor calves look bedraggled out in the rain, we have kept the youngest ones in with their mums.
We have also kept the sheep and lambs in doors on a night just to be on the safe side, as we have had foxes sniffing around not to mention again the cold rain.
It's good to watch any young animal thrive in the dry, my husband always says "better a dry back than a full belly" there is nothing worse than calves suffering from pneumonia, scours and tummy upsets because of a wet back.
The fields are starting to look greener even though they are still pretty wet, cows can make a bit of a mess when they walk through peaty ground, not that it is their fault.
I cannot believe just how green everything looks after the rain has died down, our garden has just burst out into colour over the past week or so, nature is a wonderful thing.

We will be saying goodbye to some of the young heifers and bullocks soon as market day will soon be upon us.
It is a hard time for me in particular as I get a little to attached to the young ones during the winter months.
They all have a name and all have their own likes and dislikes.
Some like to be scratched under the chin or along their backs, others like their tummy scratched or just brushed all over.
I would like to think the heifers would go to good homes for breeding, we all know what will happen to the bullocks that is guaranteed they will go into the food chain at some point poor things.
But at least we can say we gave them a good start in life and a good quality of life while they were here.
After all they are doing us as humans a great service the ultimate sacrifice you might say.

The birds are singing late into the evening, it will not be long before we hear the Cuckoo calling from the Creag Mhor Mountain, there are usually two or three of them about at this time of year.
It's quite on the mountain this year as our neighbour took all of the sheep off the hill, we do not hear lambs calling anymore except our own.
A person can do a power of thinking when you are cleaning out byres and such, I remember when I went sheep gathering with friends in Newtonmore a few years ago.
Well that's another story best left until later.
Maybe I will post that one next???

Spring has Sprung

Well it's me again with more news from the Croft.
We have been ultra busy this month, so I have not had much time to sit down to the blog as much as I would like.
But I will update you all on the events of the past month.
We have had another three calves this month and another one still to arrive.
We have also had some lambs from the pet Cheviot's.
Where to start??
First as promised the pictures of the calves born in February in particular Effie's calf, remember the one that we could not get in and she attacked my husband.
We called him Buster in the end.
He pushes his way in and swaggers about like he owns the place, he will not hang out with the younger calves but he likes being around the larger calves, you know the type a bit like the small kid that wants to be a big kid and keeps getting pushed around but will not give in, he just keeps going back for more, well Buster is just like that.
His mother is a Short Horn Cross, Buster is a Limousin Cross his father is Ronwick Iceman, the is a beautiful rowan colour with a white blaze on his chest and forehead.

Buster, Boris & Penny

Boris is a white Charolais cross, his mother is called Diamond and she is a first time mother who is also a Charolais cross, his father is Simpsons Greg.

Penny is a Limousin cross, her mother is Diana a Shorthorn cross, Penny's father is Ronwick Iceman also.

We have had another two calves since they were born, one of which needed a helping hand or should I say three pairs of helping hands, she did not want to come out into the big wide world.

Her mother started in labour in the early evening, but in the early hours she was still trying to get the calf out I felt around inside to see if the calf was coming out the wrong way, but it appeared that she was so big that she was stuck at the elbows, we had to call the vet in to help out, as mother was to tied to push any more, so the vet arrived, we tied ropes to the ankles of the calf and gently eased her out into the world.

Mother and calf are doing fine, I will post some pictures of them as soon as I can.

As I said earlier we also have some lambs too, not any trouble with them they came into the world without any help at all, every one doing fine.

So far we have had all girl lambs smart cute as anything.

This is Sharon with her lambs, may they be the first of many and grow up to be strong & healthy.

The Thugs

This is my Thugs, they are pure breed Hill Cheviot's from Skye.
They are in lamb and we are expecting them mid April.
They were put to a 1000 guinea Tup in November last year.
They are beautiful soft natured animals.
I named them Miran, Sharon & Claire.
Miran appears to be the leader the other two I believe are twins as they are inseparable, but all three hate to be apart from one another for any length of time.
We took them to our local Road to the Isles show in Camasdarach nr Arisaig, Miran won her class and Claire came second.
We also took them to the Black Isle Show last year Miran came second in her class to a park Cheviot, and Claire came third, we knew we would not beat the park Cheviot they are a different class altogether.
But I think for a first time out they all did really well.
They were nicknamed the thugs because they walk around in a pack and anything that gets in their way will get chased or butted, including the young calves, they have no fear what so ever.
They have been known to stamp their feet at me when they cannot get their own way.
They also appear to know when the garden gate is left open, they will appear from no-where and have a feast in my flower beds, nothing is left standing in their wake.
But they are so comical I do not think I would like to part with "My Thugs".

"Lambs a Leaping"

"Katie"

This is Katie the Black face lamb, she was one of our pet lambs, her mother was taken by a fox just after she was born.
She had to be hand reared, lambs are very difficult to raise if they do not get their mothers milk for the colostrum when first born. She had a lot of problems like joint ill, ticks, bloat and so on.
Katie was a mischievous little lamb, if you did not watch her she would come running into the house and make herself comfortable on the furniture.
I had even caught her in front of the open fire warming herself before now.
She would wait for me to come home on an evening from work, she knew she would get extra nuts from her
adopted mum "me". She would follow me around all day with the dogs, she thought she was a dog.
Katie was very playful and energetic she loved our collie "Cullan" and would often snuggle up to him in the garden.
Unfortunately she become ill just as she got to the year old age and we could not do anything for her, she passed away quietly, I was heart broken and still miss her terribly, we buried her in her favorite spot.

It has taken a long time to get over Katie as I became so attached to her, my husband bought some Cheviot lambs from a good bloodline in Skye.
They were tupped at the back end of the year to a £1000 guinea ram, we are expecting the pitter patter of hoofs mid April.
I just hope they all do well have no problems and the mum's look after their babies, I could not go through rearing another lamb only to have it die of one thing or another.
Someone once told me that "sheep were born just to die"
I thought this was foolish at the time but not anymore.

"Oh what a beautiful morning" NOT

As the song says "Oh what a beautiful morning".
Well I can tell you it has been the most miserable year I have ever had the pleasure to live through so far in my life.
We have had nothing but rain, rain and more rain, when will it end.

We have had people staying in the Caravan this week they must be fed up too, what can you do you cannot change the weather for them I am sorry to say.

We had a cow abort a calf at 7 months last week, the Vet does not know why, I would like some answers but no-one can help it's just one of those things I keep getting told.
She has not been very well since, we keep dosing her with Penicillin but she is still not responding as quick as I would like.

God only knows if we will ever get another calf out of her as she is only a 6 years old Limousin cross out of Heartside Jacko.
I would not like to think that we will have to put her away to the burner because she cannot produce.
Maybe I will hunt out some of my old herbal remedies my dad used to use way back before some of the modern stuff came onto the market.

We live in hope.
We have a couple of others due anytime now, they are in the Byre pacing at the moment, I am taking no chances with these as one of the mothers is a first calfer and the other is a second calfer.
Once the calves are born we will leave them with mother in the Byre to bond for a week just to make sure everything is okay, we don't want a repeat of Effie do we?
Speaking of Effie we called her calf Buster and what a little scamp he is, he gets into everything, and chases the dogs around wanting to play, nothing like his mother at all in temperament anyway, but colours he is very like her.
So he will have some new playmates. let's hope they are boys, as we had 80% heifers last year and we cannot keep them all.
But I hate to see the heifers going to market as you know they could end up in the abattoir, it is different for the boys because you know that is expected of them.
As long as they have a good healthy start in life and are treated with great respect, love and compassion, I know we have done our best with them and they have not suffered in any way I think everything in life deserves at least that, especially when they are going to do man a great service at the end of their short lives.