For the first time in months, this morning I put my backpack on and went to shepherd my sheep. And this afternoon, I’m writing the first Come Shepherding post in just over a year! Several things have conspired to create this lapse. The pandemic didn’t help, but the first real change came in May of last year, when I decided to try an experiment (there’s a surprise) and test whether my sheep are truly locally adapted.
As I said in Yarns From the Farm post at the time, ‘The term “locally adapted” is not just rhetoric, it has a specific meaning in the context of animal behaviour. Locally adapted animals know how to thrive in their environment—where to find shelter, water, and the plants they need to stay healthy.’
Having shepherded my flock around the property for 6 years, I felt it was time to see what they would do without me guiding them. It took a few weeks for them to settle down to the idea that moving was now their responsibility, and that I wasn’t going to show up frequently to steer them one direction or another.
They then proceeded to teach me that they prefer working one area substantially longer than I would have let them, and I got quite twitchy holding back and not interfering. In the intervening 10 months, the rhythm of grazing has altered markedly, as the sheep have had their way. The overall health of the flock, though, has never been better. The wool clip from shearing in September 2020 is arguably the best we’ve ever produced, and I give the sheep full credit for knowing how to stay really healthy in their environment.
The second major change came with this year’s La Niña and its concomitant high rainfall. Starting in late winter we’ve had not just lots of rain, but lots of heavy rainfall events with runoff, and continuing rain all through spring and summer. Our calendar year total rainfall jumped from 243 mm in 2019 to 590 mm in 2020. I’ll note that 590 is still slightly less than the long-term average, pulled down by a very dry January to July in 2020.
Taken together with my consistently low stocking rate of about 1 sheep to 2 acres, the result has been an explosion of plant growth. The continuing rains have kept the grass growing at the base even when the seed heads have dried. So the sheep have been spoilt for choice in their grazing, and I haven’t needed to shepherd them to find nice forage. In fact, since August, they have not even touched the top ⅔ of the farm—there is enough growth, and re-growth, in the sandstone ⅓ to keep them going, probably until May.
This has been a great boon to the back country, getting a long, long rest from grazing and allowing the broadleaf plants as well as the grasses a chance to flourish and set seed. However, I haven’t felt any pressure to go shepherding, and there are always plenty of other jobs to keep me busy.
So, what happened today? Well, I had a salutary lesson in why shepherding is important for more than just nutrition this past week. I took my eye off the main flock for a few days, as I had several ‘hospital sheep’ that needed attention—mostly with recent surgeries to remove ear skin cancers. I knew my water system was playing up, but didn’t think all the way through to the possibility that the main flock might be out of water in their troughs—which they were!
They weren’t desperate, but they certainly were thirsty. And while I was moving them to a trough with water in an adjacent paddock, I noticed a ewe with a bit of flystrike. That shouldn’t have been the case, as I jetted them only a month ago, and the jetting solution normally lasts 7 or 8 weeks, but shoulds don’t count in this business. There was no harm done, but (a) I felt really guilty and (b) I realised that shepherding now is as much about paying attention to individual animal health as it is about nutrition. So I’ll be doing more of it!
Today we moved from The Forest, my first tree reserve, now fully grazed, and into the bottom end of Curly Sedge Creek. Pearl and I both struggled to find the pace again: it’s go slow and wait. So slowly, in fact, that my new Apple Watch doesn’t believe I’m even exercising, let alone doing a workout: it kept prompting me with ‘Are you finished with your workout (by implication, you haven’t moved and your heart rate is near resting)’ and I kept saying ‘No’. I think I need a Saunter setting.
The thing is, sheep only graze when they are relaxed, so you can’t put them under any pressure if that’s the object of the exercise. Even if wasn’t a workout, it was a lovely time with the sheep.