The Weekend Hobby Thread

Growing up in Wisconsin, our state was known as "America's Dairyland". Over the years the smaller family farms have been swallowed up by larger corporate farms. Or the land was sold for homes and urban growth.

Over the years while this was taking place a small number of people were purchasing smaller farms or acreage and started "Hobby Farming".

Although Legally Sufficient isn't a Sconnie Girl, she has been involved in "Hobby Farming Ranching" and has submitted the following:

Sheep Hobby

Like most or all of you, I have had varied and various hobbies in my life, and I truly enjoyed them all. Some hobbies are shared with a spousal unit and some are situational, such as the snorkeling and ship watching I did when we lived in the tropics. Once we moved back to the States, the hobbies I enjoyed while living near the ocean became fond memories. There are hobbies I have long enjoyed, and probably always will, like reading, hiking and cross stitch. Far and away, the most unusual hobby I ever had was during a brief, shining period when I was . . . a sheepherder. Yes, for seven years, sheepherding was a shared hobby that deftly combined old family livestock traditions, newly (and swiftly) acquired animal husbandry skills, periodic bouts of elation, and momentary insanity. I refer to our having sheep as a hobby because it was relatively short-lived and it was never intended to be an income stream. Was it educational, aggravating and demanding? Yes, yes, and yes. And I wouldn’t trade that experience for the world!

It all started one day when (out of the blue) my husband said he wanted to get a couple of sheep. Sheep?!?! What he had in mind was not the fluffy white woolie sheep that my great-granddad raised, along with Hereford cattle. Nope, the spousal unit wanted trophy rams with massive horns that spiraled out past 40 inches. Exotic hair sheep that were all black or a combination of black and brown. Black Hawaiians and Corsicans that did not require shearing, but would add an extra coat of hair during the winter and slough it off in the spring. Said he had been thinking of this for a year now, and felt he was ready to move ahead on the idea. As a bonus, the sheep were good eating with mild tasting meat. Double win!! Sure. Yeah, uh huh, you bet.

We were living in the Texas Hill Country at the time, had a couple outside cats (one a country dump-off and the other a formerly feral hitchhiker) to keep the varmints at bay, and proudly possessed just over six wooded and minimally landscaped acres, nicely fenced. Our days of having Labs were long over, and our interaction with non-feline critters consisted primarily of feeding, naming and observing the deer herds that moved through the property, and watching all manner of birds, squirrels, possums, foxes, rabbits and coyotes as they passed through. Little did we know our avid deer watching would come in handy later on! Our little country subdivision even allowed livestock ownership, so there was no problem there. But we were no more equipped to raise livestock than the man on the moon! We were both self-employed, my demanding office job had transitioned to working from home, and his home-based business had customer service routes that would take him into neighboring counties for varying hours of the work day.

Sheep.

One fine spring day, my husband was off to see the breeder of fine trophy rams, and when he returned, the pickup contained a big wire cage in the back with two beautiful and apprehensive sheep inside. Pardon me, not sheep, but rams. One Black Hawaiian and one Corsican. Rams with horns, muscle and attitude. The Black Hawaiian was jet black and just under a year old; the Corsican (sometimes called a Barbados) was just over a year old and a delightful mixture of brown, white and black. I was immediately impressed and intrigued. Why two rams and not just one, as planned? The breeder said one ram alone would seek out other sheep to be with and, when he realized he was alone, he would very quickly jump the fence to search for other sheep. But two rams (or sheep) would stay together and be content to remain within the perimeter fence. It proved to be very good advice.

The rams spent their days grazing the greenery in the woods and meadows, and were content. They were pals and never strayed very far from one another. They were polite livestock, almost gentle, didn’t hop or jump on stationary objects (such as parked cars) like goats do, and they never destroyed anything, not even our minimal landscaping. I never forgot that these rams were powerful enough to toss a human in the air or break bones by playful ramming. Because of their small number and our raising them from yearlings, these two rams were not aggressive. They would willingly follow a feed bucket anywhere, and I was not afraid to lead them into the round pen on foot, but I also made sure to keep a watchful eye on them just the same.

Traffic on our little road would occasionally stop when the rams were in the front pasture, and folks obviously enjoyed watching their new and unusual neighbors. Before long, we added a shelter within a round pen made of corral panels that hooked together. The rams were placed inside the round pen at night to keep them safe from predators, and to provide assurance that we would not wake up the next morning to find our sheep had jumped the fence during the night to escape predators. The round pen also came in handy when the front gate had to remain open for some reason or when there was a storm. During stormy weather, if the rams were in the round pen, that meant they were not hanging out on the back porch!

After a couple months, we decided it was time to expand our little flock, so we acquired some young ewe lambs from an experienced sheep producer. In the process, we gained an enduring friendship, a reliable source of invaluable advice on all things relating to sheep and livestock, and some nice Corsican and Painted Desert ewe lambs. Before long, nature took its course and we were anxiously awaiting our first crop of lambs. All those years of deer watching came in handy since many traits were the same in the sheep as in the whitetail deer. We could tell when a doe was about to drop a fawn, and the same observations were made in determining when the ewes were about to drop their lambs. We added another sheep shelter and pen, which we dubbed the “maternity ward” for expectant and newly delivered ewes.

Awaiting the arrival of that first lamb, I experienced an “oh shit” moment as I suddenly realized that I had no idea how to help a birthing ewe in distress. By the time I found what I needed on the internet, it would be too late. Suddenly, I had never felt so much like a city girl…. But the ewes delivered their lambs perfectly and without incident, and we were elated at having witnessed the miracle of birth. And the lambs were all so darn cute! Every lamb was healthy and we had a mixture of brown/black and solid black lambs, so it was easy to know which lambs were sired by which ram. It was a privilege to witness the birth of a new lamb or lambs, and I have to say that it was the primary reward of this peculiar little sheep hobby. We gave thanks to God for each and every new life that our ewes delivered, and gave thanks for the easy births. I never, ever tired of seeing these bouncing little lambs as they explored their big, new world. At one point, I told myself that if a lamb’s birth was to ever become routine and ho-hum, then it was time for me to get out of the sheep hobby.

I kept meticulous records (skill set transfer from my real job!), and had a breeder’s book that noted all the important information on every one of our sheep. This record keeping proved useful when we later needed to register the purebred sheep in our flock. Did we name our sheep? You bet we did! We knew each sheep’s personality, lineage and their strong and weak points, breed-wise. They may have all looked alike to an outsider, but to us, each sheep was an individual and readily identifiable. And we kept detailed sales records. At first, our sheep were sold via word of mouth or Craigslist to small producers who were looking to expand their flocks, and to some folks who wanted to become sheep producers. The buyers saw our operation and the breeding ewes and rams that had produced the lambs they were buying. After the second year, we were able to acquire a few Black Hawaiian ewes to add to the mix, and we eventually transitioned to the purebred sheep business, er, hobby. Our flock kept growing, and it was apparent that having more than 20 sheep was overwhelming the space. We needed to decide which of our breeders needed to move on to new homes.

I was constantly asked by well-meaning, non-buyers if I “felt bad” about selling our sheep. They seemed to equate a sale with a slaughter, and by asking the question, it was as if they were trying to raise my awareness and make me feel guilty somehow. My response was always the same: no, I did not feel bad at all about selling the sheep. I would remind them that the sheep were livestock and not pets, and that they were bred to be sold. Selling sheep was the end game of this hobby, and it provided us with validation that we were producing something of value and not just vanity. For us, selling the lambs was an easy thing to do. They were relatively new, and by the time they were weaned, we were ready to share our bounty with willing buyers. Once buyers saw the breeding rams, and those great spiraling horns, they wanted those lambs! The market was pretty good and we had plenty of repeat business.

Selling our breeding ewes and rams was a little harder to do, only because they had been with us longer and we “knew” them. But once we decided they were not going to be part of the flock’s long-term plan, they were still livestock and needed to be sold. If we hadn’t already done so (and we had), our sheepherding hobby was now requiring long-term thinking as to what desirable breed characteristics we wanted to see in our flock in the coming years, combined with a steely-eyed ability to recognize whether our current stock had or could contribute to those characteristics. Ultimately, we thinned the flock by selling about half of the breeding ewes and our Corsican ram. Not all of our sheep moved on to new homes as the result of a sale. At different points during this sheepherding adventure, we were able to loan rams and gift lambs to neighbors and friends who were interested in raising sheep for fun, or folks who had experienced large flock losses from predators. We felt blessed and grateful to be in a position where we could help others.

We knew going in to this adventure that having a flock of sheep meant you were tied to the home place. The only way both my husband and I could be absent at the same time, even for just an overnight visit to relatives, was to get someone reliable and nearby to handle the feeding and watering while we were away. That someone also needed to be mature enough to deal with any situation that might arise while we were gone. For us, the easiest way to get qualified assistance turned out to be a hybrid of a “livestock co-op” and paid help. If you can find someone with livestock in the area, you can trade taking care of each other’s animals for a few days at a time with the understanding that the privilege will not be abused. (We had used this method successfully when we had Labs.) Otherwise, you will have to find someone willing to handle the chores for an agreed upon sum. In our case, we used adults some of the time and high school agriculture students at other times. We used both methods of assistance at different times, depending on availability. Both options worked equally well.

The hair sheep we raised were hardy and did not require human intervention. White wooly sheep require shearing each year, shots and other veterinary services. We never had a veterinary visit, but we did experience a few of the inevitable accidents and whatnot that go with raising livestock. Our prized Black Hawaiian ram sired a son that was taller than he. At some point, the two rams did what rams always do: fight by ramming head on into each other. In this case, the son’s height was an advantage in the fight and our breeder ram was left with a closed head injury and died the following day. It was a sad day, and we held ourselves partially responsible for not realizing there would be a problem with having those two rams in the same herd at the same time. After that, we acquired another trophy ram (from the same breeder) and all rams were separated and kept apart. More fencing and sheep shelters!

In all the lambs born, only once did we have a ewe deliver a lamb that was stillborn. This was the ewe’s first delivery, and the incomplete coloration and formation of the hooves indicated that it had been born a few days too early. One of our first ewes developed a problem with her udder after her second delivery and we were able to forestall serious infection (with the help of our good sheep friend) but the ewe was never the same after that, and had the use of only one of her two teats when she was nursing twin lambs. A couple of ewes failed to become pregnant, and we thought perhaps they were barren. But it turned out that they were simply “late bloomers” that took an extra six months before they were successfully bred.

Our hobby experience also included a couple of bottle babies: one twin lamb whose mother could not provide enough milk to support both lambs, and one twin lamb who was rejected by her mother. Fortunately, we only had one bottle baby at a time and both times we were able to identify the feeding problem early on before the lamb was in any danger from dying from starvation. Bottle babies are extra work but I quickly realized they are also little extra blessings in disguise! I was truly fortunate to be working from home at this time because otherwise, I would have had to take the bottle lamb to work so I could feed it periodically during the day. That would have been a real thrill in an urban parking garage! Since I was home all day, we did not have to segregate the bottle baby from the rest of the herd to facilitate feedings. Normally, bottle babies are bottle fed every two to three hours. I chose to not do the middle of the night feedings, so I would start the first feeding very early in the morning and the last feeding would be just before I went to bed. The lambs thrived, even on this crazy feeding schedule. Another bonus that I discovered: there is a little leap your heart does when you step outside, you hear the joyful greeting from a lamb, and see it running as fast as it can toward you as you are coming over to feed it. They are grateful and enthusiastic feeders! Thankfully the feed store had an instant formula for the ewe’s milk and I did not have to concoct a mixture from scratch. I was also glad to use plastic bottles rather than the old glass soda bottles that were popular a few decades ago.

All good things come to an end, and that was true of this hobby. We decided to move west to be closer to family, and could not be assured that the new place would accommodate our flock. There were also some wildlife considerations that potentially foreclosed any possibility of importing exotic sheep into our new home state. We listed the breeding rams and ewes for sale separately and, in the end, were able to sell the entire flock to someone who was looking to expand their hair sheep operation. Luckily for us, the new buyer took one look at our Black Hawaiian breeding ram, loved what he saw, and said he was willing to buy all the sheep as long as he could also have the ram. We were very happy to have the flock stay together. And so it was that our little sheep hobby came to a close seven years after it started. In the final accounting, the profits outweighed the expenses and, most importantly, the joys and positive experiences far surpassed any pain and anxiety. And I got bragging rights to a most peculiar and unusual hobby!

Perhaps Legally Sufficient can help out Jeremy Clarkson.............

Is it a hobby if you make money at it? Or is it no longer a hobby but a business? Your humble Cob has no idea. Maybe you folks out there can let us know what you think. I'll be honest with you, I could never have sheep, swine or bovine. I would name them and then I couldn't kill them and eat them.

I'm always looking for ideas for the Weekend Hobby Thread. If you have something you wish to share you can reach me at petmorons at gmail dot com. Next week the affable JJ Sefton will be here to tickle your Hobby needs.

posted by Misanthropic Humanitarian at 05:12 PM

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