Rush Hour

Just stumbled across this post card while tidying space for our upcoming home swaps.
We lived on a small road in a boreen like this. Country lanes such as this get really hectic twice a day:when milking time approaches in the morning and in the evening, but also when herds have to be moved. And sheep are not the easiest to steer. We had a really good sheep dog which was a a master at rounding up cattle and sheep most of the time. Except when they had to be moved across our little river.Then it was next to impossible until one sheep took the courage- then all the others followed ...proverbially, even without being led to the slaughterhouse. On one occasion they even left their lambs behind and we had to carry the lambs over.
Now imagine yourself facing this herd coming towards your car. There is no way to go but wait until they file or flow around your vehicle. If there is a tractor involved, it requires more patience yet.
But you get used to these things, living there. It's only the tourists who panic when they have to drive their cars so close into hedges that their cars get scratched.

Hair cut for Sheep

In late spring and early summer it's high time to get your sheep shorn.I'm afraid this year I left it almost too late! But then again, Klkenny still had a touch of snow last week; in June!
At first, the sheep don't seem to be too hot or look like they need a haircut but with the arrival of flies the thick winter fleece becomes a danger to the animals. Maggots easily infest a flock of sheep and that's trouble no farmer wants to deal with. We had a neighbor who offered his services. Mick always did his own and had experience. Shearing was done outside on the yard. The sheep have to be rounded up by an able dog first. Our Brandy had talent for this job. She clearly enjoyed nipping the sheep in their legs too while rounding them up and circling them all the time to keep them in check. Where she had learned it--we didn't know. It was in her blood, whereas later off spring of hers was useless.
The shearer holds a sheep between his legs while a second is needed to keep the struggling sheep still. Mostly they are not very cooperative in spite of the sense of relief afterwards.Zip, zip, zip and off flies the wool. To get the fleece in one piece is impossible. They must come from slaughtered sheep. In the olden days it was worth to collect the wool but at that time we were in the "business", prices were too low to bother. We still had to pick up the wool and stuff them into bags because the dogs would make a right mess and have way too much fun with it. Fertilizer bags are the bags of choice like for many other jobs, collecting windfall apples, even for sleighing down a hill which merely has a sprinkle of snow.
It's a smelly job. Sheep have a certain odor, their lanolin imbued wool does too and so do the men at work after a while. On a hot day, it can be quite overwhelming for the delicate nose of a city girl. After a while and typical hints from the shearers, drink is fetched. This type of work makes you hungry as well.
In the following years, when we had about 100 sheep we needed professional help if this social outing wasn't going to take all week.
I always felt sorry for the sheep afterwards when the weather was still on the chilly side. They looked like starved skeletons, naked and unappealing. But they usually frolicked shortly after the ordeal. After that they should receive a dip in a medicine infused bath to prevent the dreaded parasites. Which is an ordeal in itself.