Push-Me-Pull-Ewe

Some jobs just gotta get done on the farm, whether you like them or not. Cleaning the chicken coop must be pretty high on the list, along with butchering, but loading pigs or sheep are near the top of the charts as well.

Now, you may be thinking, “Oh no, not the cute little lambs!” But they’re not very little anymore—try 130 pounds (we know because we lifted them up onto the hanging scale last night!) of teenaged male sheepness. They’re bossy, nosy, and naughty, and all they want to think about are the cute girls next door (sound familiar?). After keeping a new young breeding ram, it’s time for the rest to go before they cause more trouble and burn up the precious winter store of hay.

At least we have loading hogs down to a science—bring the trailer up to the pen the day before so they can grow accustomed to it, build a small catch pen to keep them closer, and lure them with food, water, and kitchen goodies. But this same use of motivators doesn’t work with loading cantankerous teenaged sheep.

To begin with, our lambs are ready in November or December, when there is too much snow and ice (especially this year) to bring the Featherlight trailer very close to the barn. This means we’ll have to catch each sheep, loop on a rope harness, and lead it to the trailer, with a detour to the hanging scale. Sounds simple enough, in theory.

But these sheep have never been to the county fair, halter trained, or handled regularly. They’re in their natural state—curious but wary. It’s dark out already (late-afternoon, this time of year), and we’re bundled up in farm coats with glowing headlamps on our foreheads. I hold fast the gate while Mom and Kara crowd the sheep into the corner and snag three. With the halters on snug, the lambs begin a jig, pulling, jumping, and tussling. A black-and-white speckled faced ram lamb named “Bandit” decides to fight the halter by pouncing, rearing up on his hind legs.

“It’s bucking broncos, who needs rodeo or Monday Night Football, when you can wrestle sheep?!” It’s pulling and tussling out through the gate and into the deep snow. My white-faced lamb decides to be especially stubborn and lay down. “Come on, please!” He wrinkles up his nose, as if to say, “I like routine, and this is not routine. I’m not going anywhere.”

I’m still struggle with coaxing, pushing, teasing, as Mom and Kara head away down the path to the trailer with their charges. “See, you’re friends are leaving you!” Then, without warning, the lamb charges up and I’m running behind like a musher, trying to keep up. Then plop, he lays down again. “If anyone wants a live nativity scene, they’re going to have to set it up right here because this one’s not going anywhere!” The wooly beast gives me a disgruntled look, snow sticking to his sides and legs like powdered sugar. I’m sure that I don’t look much better.

Now it’s time to weigh the lambs, so that we know the sizes that are being sent to the butcher, catalogued by ear tag number. This involves tucking a sling under the sheep’s belly, with strings attached to the top in loops. The scale is hanging from the ceiling, with a hook on the bottom with a tough spring to record the weight. Kara takes the front end, and Mom takes the back, while I’m in charge of hooking the sling to the scale. It’s amazing, though, how long sheep legs can be, so we have to lift the lamb to the level of our shoulders—a kicking, squiggling, displeased lamb.

“132 pounds” Kara hollers, “Woah!” The lamb is slipping forward on the scale, front feet touching the floor. It’s mottled face bug-eyed like “I’m a sheep, I don’t want to fly!” After rebalancing, we have our number, and gently let the lamb back down to the ground. The sheep in the pen next door are half-amused, half-upset to be disturbed by this charade. What happened to their lovely, quiet evening?

Now it’s time to head back to the lamb barn for another round of catching. This time I’m handed Waldo, the first lamb of the season. Fat and sassy, Waldo was his mother’s only lamb, which meant he got lots of milk. I pull and I tug, but he’s not going anywhere. Oh no, I’ve got two feet, and he’s got four, and he knows it. “Kara! He won’t come!” Kara wrestles her lamb over and ties the harness to the barn door, then trundles back. Taking the leash, Waldo perks up and follows right along, trot trot. Guess I wasn’t his favorite human, little tart.

“You know,” Kara comments as we flounder about in the deep snow, sometimes pushing, sometimes pulling. “I heard this story about how in Asia they’ve had skis longer than anywhere else in the world, and that they would nail horse hide to the bottom for traction up hills. They skied with one pole and a lasso, which they would use to rope elk. They’d hang onto the rope, and be dragged through the mountains, until the elk tired and they could kill it for food. But now, I guess they do this as a sport.”

She shouldn’t have given the sheep any ideas. Mom’s lamb bolted, “Laura, catch the rope!” I grab it, one leather glove goes flying, then the sheep swerves to the side and I’m laying on the ground, being pulled across the barnyard with a face full of snow. “Hold one, I’m coming!”

It was something like three hours later that all 20 lambs were safely tucked into their trailer hotel for the night. This morning, Kara drove them off to the processor. It’s a sad day on the farm, but it’s part of the cycle of life. This way, there will be room for new little ones in the spring.

Do you enjoy lamb? Grass-fed lamb is delicious and rather close to venison. Unfortunately, the American palate was turned away from “lamb” during WWII when servicemen were fed copious amounts of mutton. But you can be an adventuresome locavore and give lamb a second chance with this delicious holiday recipe.

Holiday Lamb Meat Balls with Yogurt

1 pound ground lamb
1/4 cup finely chopped white onion
1 Tbs. finely chopped fresh mint (or 1 tsp. dried)
1 Tbs. finely chopped fresh cilantro (or 1 tsp. dried)
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tsp. ground coriander
Salt to taste
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. fresh ground black pepper

For the yogurt
7 ounces whole milk Greek yogurt
2 tsp. finely chopped fresh cilantro (or 2/3 tsp. dried)
2 tsp. finely chopped fresh mint (or 2/3 tsp. dried)
1 tsp. ground cumin
Zest of 1 lemon, minced

Heat oven to 375 degrees, with wire rack in middle. Combine all meatball ingredients and mix well with your hands. Form 30 balls (about 2 tsp. each) and place on a baking sheet. Bake until they are no longer pink in the middle, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, combine all yogurt ingredients in a small bowl. Keep yogurt chilled until serving (can be prepared in advance). Lamb makes a delicious and healthy appetizer, especially when baked, because it’s lower in fat! Enjoy

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I’m still a bit stiff and sore, but at least that’s one more task to check off the list for this year. See you down on the farm sometime.