As many of you know, until 9 months ago, this blog was largely focused on all things sheep (with periodic forays in to farming generally and, very occasionally, into baseball). But since late January, I've written just one essay about sheep (Once a Sheepman..., March 27). My normally simple, sheep-centric world was overtaken by Sami's diagnosis of, treatment for, and ultimate passing from glioblastoma. Now, nearly two months after she passed, I'm finally starting to think about what the future holds for Flying Mule Sheep Company.
As I wrote back in March, I'd been considering some changes to the sheep enterprise even before Sami got sick. After buying out my partner Roger when we weaned our lambs in the summer of 2022, the day-to-day responsibilities for managing sheep, feeding livestock guardian dogs, and irrigating our 15 acres of pasture fell to me. On top of my full time "day" job, the sheep chores (at times) made my days very long (especially during the 6 months of irrigation season). Trips to see our daughters (both of whom live out of state) began to take on more importance; Roger graciously offered to help out while we were traveling, but I didn't want to impose.
This spring, I sent about two-thirds of the ewes to a friend in the San Joaquin Valley for lambing. I kept a handful here; lambing is my favorite time of the sheep year, and I didn't want to miss all the fun! Roger helped take care of things during Sami's two stays in the hospital for surgeries. And when we spent three weeks in hospitals in San Francisco in June, Roger also took care of keeping the pasture irrigated. In late June, all of the sheep came home. We weaned and sold our lambs, and I sold more than half of the ewes and all of the ewe lambs to a friend in Humboldt County. This fall, I'm breeding 23 ewes (the fewest since we started in the sheep business in 2005). Next week, we'll have lambs harvested - my total sheep inventory will be 23 ewes, 1 replacement ewe lamb, 2 feeder lambs, and 2 rams. And one livestock guardian dog. And I'm beginning to think it might be more than I want to keep - at least for the next several years.
Since we bought 20 ewes in 2005, I've tried to make this a business. At it's peak, Flying Mule Sheep Company had nearly 300 ewes. We found (not surprisingly, looking back) that this was not big enough to be a viable full-time business - we'd either need to get much larger, or make it a part-time business at a manageable number of sheep. Ultimately, I came to enjoy the part-time nature of what we were doing - I could use the sheep for teaching others about shepherding, and we were large enough to turn a little profit at the end of most years (although I was always afraid to calculate my per hour profit!).
In early August, my friend Roger moved to Texas to be closer to his family - which I totally understand. Without Roger here, however, I felt like I didn't have any backup - I had nobody who could irrigate if I was gone; nobody to move the sheep if they were out of feed.
After I sold sheep this summer, I talked with the wonderful folks who have rented me their irrigated pasture for these last many years. They told me not to worry about paying rent this year, and offered to help feed the dog and watch the sheep when I needed to be out of town. They've been wonderful all along; we've become great friends. But I can't ask them to irrigate. I can't ask them to build electric fence and move the sheep. Those tasks fall to me - and with fewer than 30 sheep, I'm not sure it makes sense to continue as we've been operating.
In the ongoing self-examination I've been doing since Sami's passing, I went back and looked at a journal I started keeping while she was in the hospital in San Francisco. I tried to list the things I missed about being home, and the things I was grateful for during that difficult time. Interestingly, the sheep weren't on the list (which I just realized this week). I missed my dogs, I missed being outdoors in the natural world; sheep chores (and especially daily irrigation) were not among the things I longed to be doing.
I've raised sheep (and irrigated pasture) long enough to know that I'm always burnt out on irrigating by early October. And I always have rancher amnesia once lambing season approaches - I'm always renewed by the arrival of new life, and anxious to start the entire cycle over again. But this year feels different. This year feels like I might make a more significant change.
For starters, I'm thinking I might only keep the number of ewes I can manage at our home place (maybe 5 or 6). During the spring flush of grass growth, I might buy feeder lambs to graze my back pasture while it's green; my only irrigation chores would be the small pastures at the house and my vegetable garden and flowers. But as tired as I am now (from what life has thrown at my family this year, and from the daily slog of animal chores, my real job, and an hour of pasture irrigation most evenings), I'm trying not to make any quick decisions about my future with sheep. For now, I'm simply trying to get through each day. We'll see...
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