Harold and the Whack-a-Ram

So, after raising sheep and rams for seven years, I got knocked down by a ram for the first time this afternoon. I would say it was my fault, but it was Harold who came after me at feeding time. I wasn’t paying enough attention because, well, I’ve been feeding rams twice a day for seven years and never been knocked down before.

Rams will come after you if you get in their space and they think you’re after their ewes. And Harold loves Maude. Maude is one of the two ewes we currently have, and I think she’s in heat right now, which tends to ratchet up all the excitement. Sometimes rams come after you just because they like you and they think it’s a game. After all, they’re called “rams” for a reason.

When a ram attacks, he will lower his head, back up half a step, and then charge. That’s when you should spray him with a vinegar and water solution, which discourages such behavior, or do what I prefer, and smack him on the forehead with a whack-a-ram. My whack-a-ram is a red bristled brush with a two foot handle.

When I smack Harold with my whack-a-ram, he backs up and looks at me like he’s real confused, as if to say, “That’s not how the game goes.”

Right, Harold, so just back off.

And he usually does. Today, though, I didn’t have my whack-a-ram with me when I fed the sheep in the evening. I was putting their bowls down and listening to a Dawes song on my iPhone when the world suddenly went topsy-turvy. My glasses went flying, and the music suddenly stopped, and I instantly went from looking at a feed bowl and some dirt and some sheep pellets in the dirt to looking at the blue sky and some clouds.

Then as I was trying to get up, Harold decided that since the first one went so well, he should have another go at me. So he did. Knocked me down again. He didn’t hurt me, not permanently at least. He did piss me off, though, so I immediately got my whack-a-ram, and gave him a good talking too, which he has already forgot. Rams have very thick skulls.

This is a picture of Mac, our first ram. He had several goes at me in the three years we owned him, but he never knocked me down. I generally try to sell rams by the time they are three. They seem to get meaner as they get older.

22Elyse Nida, Kate Panebianco and 20 others14 CommentsLikeCommentShare

Author: micknleb@gmail.com

English teacher at Volunteer State Community College, nearing retirement. Amateur musician, fiction writer, farmer.

One thought on “Harold and the Whack-a-Ram”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *