Goodbye to MeatyBoy

In raising sheep, your ram is half of your herd. The ram is responsible for contributing one half of your genetics, while various ewes, with their various lineages contribute the other half. A good breeder manages this information aiming for a better result, whether that be a larger, meatier frame, better wool, or, in our case better behavior.

We started raising sheep when my then seven year old daughter bought some bred ewes from a good friend. Though they were farm sheep, and not expected to be lap dogs, they were easy, friendly and manageable. It was a good start in the sheep business for both Katie and me, and we had a couple of years of good luck.

From that first batch of lambs one little fellow really stood out. He was a single, and he was HUGE. Katie was always "hands on" with our animals, having played amongst the goats and chickens since before she could talk. The lambs were a little different. They ran away, and although it isn't great to chase prey animals, she managed to catch and tame all of the lambs except one. The big one, that meaty boy, had eluded her.

One morning, however, she chased him around the larger pen as I filled the hayracks. A pallet that we used to divide "pens" had been leaned up against one wall, and the lamb ran in around one side and under it for cover. Seeing her chance, Katie got down low on the other side looking in.

Now, a quick aside. Sheep do not have a reverse gear. They will go forward, perhaps at a tangent, but rarely will they reverse. The same for my Katie.

As these two faced each other from behind the pallet, I sensed trouble. But before I could even shout a warning, the lamb came out from behind the pallet, head down, like a woolly cannonball. His instinct, however, did not prepare him for the immovable force that is Katie. Heads down, their heads met with an incredible thud, and I swear it is true, that lamb stumbled.

Though their weights were similarly matched, he had momentum on his side, and as he staggered to a halt, Kate flipped over backwards, a howl of seven year old rage escaped her throat. Like a lion, she doubled back and grabbed him before he could recover. Through her tears, she pinned him and utterly broke his spirit.

Now, to explain, a ram is similar to a bull, unpredictable and not to be trusted. In fact, as the father of daughters, I have told them the same is probably true of males of any species. Her brothers would probably agree.

Over the years, however, MeatyBoy, as he came to known, was never aggressive toward any humans. He has killed aggressive ram lambs that weren't separated as soon as they should have been. When he was only a year old, I struggled to separate him from a larger, older, smarter ram as they beat each other bloody. Meat was never a shrinking violet. Yet he never forgot that encounter with Katie. He would come when he was called, especially if there was food involved. He was gentle with lambs and tolerated their hi-jinks, at least until they were "teenagers."

We kept MeatyBoy long after he should have been retired, and he sired many good lambs. We had brought in a bunch of ewes from outside some years ago, and they were the were most poorly behaved belligerent escape artists we could have imagined. Some of the lambs however behaved like Meat, and some did not. We have been culling hard to get back down to the well behaved herd we were once spoiled with, and leaving Meat on the job just a little longer seemed the best idea.

Sadly, last fall he was showing his age. His replacement, Moose, is yet untried. Although a better farmer would have taken MeatyBoy to auction, we opted to let him live out his life on his home pasture.

Saturday, he lay down in the sun and quietly, peacefully, breathed his last.

Farewell old friend.

Thanks for Listening,

Dave