Dead and/or dying animals first thing in the morning kinda
takes the old “joi de vivre” right out of everything, “doncha know”?
…and on Sunday…no less…
That really makes it worse.
But, hey, that’s life on the farm. And some days farm life is a bummer…big time!
Today was one of those days. When I went out to do morning
chores, something didn’t look/feel quite right.
A quick glance around revealed a down sheep. As in, (oh crap!) I think she’s dead, kind of
down sheep. ARGH! I yelled and swore and tried to get her to
get up without going in with the animals.
She moved, so she wasn’t dead…but, things looked grim. OH…I swore a little more, threw a few things
and went tearing in with the sheep, only to realize that the ram was behind
me. Ack!
Three hundred plus pounds of testosterone wasn’t going to be helpful, so
I went screeching toward the barn for a feed bucket. The Boss arrived on the scene, wondering
aloud at my frantic actions and general loudness on a Sunday morning.
With the flock eating, I could go ascertain the issue with
the downed ewe. I pulled and tugged and
got her on her feet. Her face looked
odd, she was incredibly unsteady, but she was standing. What the?
A diagnosis was in order…quickly. A call to the vet was ruled out…too expensive
on a Sunday…and he’s told me in the past that I’m pretty good at diagnosing
sheep ailments.
Running the symptoms through my mind, I was coming up empty.
It seemed that I might have forgotten the information in all those vet books I
read at lunchtime over the years. Rabies? Scrapie? Johnnes? Tetanus?
No….symptoms didn’t match. Come on, think!
No….symptoms didn’t match. Come on, think!
Regardless of the diagnosis, the sick ewe would need to be
isolated, which meant that every single sheep on the place was going to have to
be moved. While ours is a small operation,
the logistics for a big move were going to take awhile. Breakfast was a real
necessity, so we headed inside. I gave
up on breakfast and kept thinking and researching.
The round-up and relocation was fairly un-eventful and she
was put in quarantine in the barn. This
will enable us to observe her closely and medicate as necessary. Despite the fact that it’s pretty much a lost
cause, we will do everything we can to provide for her care and comfort.
It wasn’t until after 10 o’clock that I remembered I still
hadn’t had any coffee! …and forget the laundry…as for any relaxation and that
movie we were going to watch…ha! I spent some real quality time disinfecting
all the buckets and feeders she had come in contact with…while worrying over
the rest of the bunch.
Some further observation revealed a few more symptoms. She
was drooling, her head was cocked sideways, her lips looked crooked, it
appeared that her cud was “stuck” in her cheek, her ears were drooping, and she
kept wandering around in circles.
Circles, circles…a bell started ringing in my head…circles…oh my
goodness…”Circling Disease”!
Listeriosis. Yep, the symptoms
were classic. But…the prognosis was not
good. Death is a very real probability.
But, there is about a 30% chance of survival.
We’ll try to focus on that.
The biggest problem of being such a small operation is the
fact that every loss is a big
loss. Not only will we lose this ewe,
but any lambs that she might have been carrying will be lost as well. There’s no way around it…this is a big, bad
deal.
…and the kicker is…there’s not a thing we can do about it,
except pick up the pieces. I’m not even
sure how she contracted the ailment. It
was in something she ate (or possibly drank), but the source remains a mystery.
The bacterium lives in all sorts of environments, particularly the soil. (great…)
So, that means right now we don’t know if any of the other sheep will sicken as
well. Oh, yeah…something else to worry
about.
Since we are dealing with a neurological disease, we have to
rule out Rabies. (Our area has a real issue with rabid varmints.) This means that the sheep’s brain will have to
be examined (after she dies…if she dies) …and that means we will have to spend
some time hauling the dead animal to the State Lab for examination and talking
over the situation with the State Veterinarian. Not a fun way to spend at least half a day, I
am here to tell you from personal experience.
But, what are ya gonna do?
That’s just the way things go sometimes. That’s when you stop cussing and sighing, take
a deep breath, say a little prayer (or a big one) and sing along with Luke
Bryan…and “keep chuggin’ along”.
Some days you got it all together
You swear you have it figured out
You swear you have it figured out
Other days you're
stumbling and a wondering
What the hell it's all about
What the hell it's all about
Life's kind of funny like that
Sometimes you're the dog sometimes you're the cat
All you can do is just keep going
And thank God for what you have
Keep chuggin' along
Keep singing your song
Keep singing your song
Put the plow in the ground till the daylight’s gone
When you look back over your shoulder
At everything you've done
Put the good times in your pocket
Let the bad ones make you strong
And Keep chuggin'
along!
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