Well I had a stressful week, so when I sat down to write, I had nothing.
I was born in New York and my dad moved us to Michigan when I was about 8 years old. I was married with children when we moved back to a family farm. Growing up on the edge of the hippy movement, we wanted to be one with the land, homesteaders. We raised sheep, partly because I wanted to spin and weave their wool. I belonged to a group called Black Sheep (NY not Hartland MI) and in their newsletter was the following story. It has been one of my favorites ever since.
Once upon a
time there was a man, Call him the Good Herder, who thought of raising
sheep. Knowing nothing of such things,
Herder journeyed the countryside, interviewing every sheep that crossed his
path, asking each about the difficulties of keeping a few of their number. All told Herder the same thing: “Sheep don’t
need much; a bite of grass, a sip of water and a pinch of salt –that’s all we
really need, really”. Convinced by
repetition, Herder decided to go ahead, and he did, buying 50 ewes and a
ram. Upon arriving at the farm with his
new flock, he took them straight away to the pasture to show them where they
would be living. “It isn’t much, he
apologized, “just a field with a fence around it, but the grass is good and
there is plenty of water, and first thing in the morning I’m going into town to
get some salt blocks”. The sheep
inspected the field, tasted the brook water and nodded approval; “This is all
we need; we will be happy here, don’t worry”.
As for Herder’s lack of a barn, the sheep said “don’t be silly, we don’t
need one, this is perfect for us out here”.
For the
first months all went well. The ram bred
the ewes, the ewes ate the lush grass and the days shortened in to winter. One day Herder noticed that there was not
much grass left in the field and he went to talk with the sheep about it. “Yes”, they agreed, “there isn’t as much grass
as before, but don’t worry, we don’t need much.
Besides, we can always feed on those bushes”. Herder would have none of that and forthwith
bought hay for his flock. The sheep were
grateful, ate heartily, and quickly grew back the fat they had lost.
Soon Herder
was beset with another problem and after considering how to bring it up
tactfully, said “ I’m sorry to complain, but you sheep could save a lot of hay
if you did not walk all over it” The sheep
not a bit offended, answered calmly “that is the way Mother nature has made
us. She taught us to always look for the
very best bits of hay, and the means we have to walk around on it to find them”. Herder understood, and then asked if the
sheep had any ideas on how to avoid the waste, saying that he just could not
afford it. “Our last owner put his hay
in feeders” replied the sheep, “that way we could not get at it to walk on”. So Herder built some feeders and everyone was
again pleased, sheep included.
Other sheep
habits bothered Herder too. One winter’s
day he brought up their habit of crowding so close together; “when I want just
a few of you to walk through the gate, all of you come rushing at once”. “We know” said the sheep, “we are like
that. Mother Nature taught us to stick
together so we do”. Herder, never quick to
tamper with nature, asked the sheep how he might manage to get them to do his
will, and as usual, the sheep cooperated.
“You could build something called a ‘sorting chute’ and we could even
teach you how” offered one old and wise ewe.
And they did, and he did, and once again peace settled upon the farm as
winter deepened and ewes grew heavy with kids.
Lambing season
began to the joy of all. Herder herded
harder now, hauling hay by day and moving about pasture by night, helping the
ewes to lamb, bringing fresh water and clean hay to the new mothers. It was exciting work, but he also got very
tired, retracing his steps over the pasture many times each night, coming to
the aid of yet another lambing ewe. One
morning Herder mentioned this to his flock; “Could you possibly come over by
the gate when you feel you are ready to lamb?”
The sheep recognized Herder’s problem right away, and answered “but we
are timid animals. Mother Nature has
taught us to lamb just as far from any disturbance as we can get, so that is
what we do – we find a quiet corner way away from everyone else. We cannot help it”. Herder had no reply.
A couple of
nights later, tragedy struck. Two lambs
froze to death in a far corner of the pasture, before the exhausted Herder to
get to them, and that same night a lamb was carried off by the wolves that had begun
to prowl the fence line. Herder was in a
frenzy but the sheep just shrugged: “we cannot fight wolves, we are just sheep”. Unsatisfied, Herder asked for suggestions,
and as usual, the sheep politely replied: “Our last owner had a barn he liked
us to lamb in, It was always safe there and he never seemed to get so cranky
during lambing” Herder was taken aback at the prospect of building a barn and
he fumed.
“So now you
need a barn, do you?” The senior ewe between
mouthfuls of hay, almost disinterestedly replied; “not at all, we don’t need a
barn. After all Mother Nature on expects
us to lamb once or so in a lifetime and we can do that standing on our heads”. Herder, scratching his own head awhile
reached a decision and made a telling observation, all in one sentence; “I will
build a barn then, for it seems that I expect a lot more of you than does your
Mother Nature”.
The sheep
knowing so much more about raising sheep than the Herder, designed the barn for
him, or rather told him how to draw the plans, for they could not write, or at
least they had never tried. As the plan
formed, Herder sensed that there was something wrong here, the drawings didn’t
seem right to him, and he said so one day.
The ewes were busy tending their lambs and paid little attention as Herder
went into details of the barn plan. But
he pressed on anyway; “these plans call for the barn to be only 4 feet high—that
just won’t work because I am over 6 feet tall”.
The sheep yawned sleepily and answered “then build it higher. We need only 4 feet, if you need more, help
yourself. But Herder wasn’t finished
yet; and these doors, they are only 18 inches wide. I can barely squeeze through and I could
never get the hay inside”. As you would
by now expect, the sheep replied that 18 inches was all they needed and that if
Herder needed more , he should build whatever he liked 18 inches or 18 feet
wide. “Eighteen feet? Now there is an idea” said Herder, “that wide
I could drive a tractor through it, if I had a tractor, to bring you the hay”. Sheep, having little or no interest in
machinery, paid him no mind; many of the ewes were asleep.
Herder
became exasperated; “you sheep don’t seem to care a bit what I am doing for you;
all you care about is a bite of grass, a sip of water and a pinch of salt. At this, several sheep turned slowly to Herder
and repeated what Herder now knew by heart; “As we told you when you bought us,
we sheep don’t need much”.
Herder did
not surrender. He built his barn, a huge
one with double doors, and he bought a tractor.
His flock grew and grew, becoming the pride of the county. The sheep and Herder had no cause for worry
now – he had built them all the chutes and feeders and barns and loaders that were
required. As he showed off the place to
visiting neighbor, Herder explained how he had come to peace with shepherding; “Sheep
don’t need much, it is true. Most of
this is for me.
The original
story was in Sheep Canada Magazine and found by Bruce Clement and reprinted in
the May 1980 issue of the New England Farmer.
Hope you enjoyed the story as much as I do, have a great week
Pam
