Alfie strikes again...

I don't think I've said very much here about Alfie yet. For those who know me, this is quite an unusual state of affairs, because Alfie is often very much on my mind. He is a 2 year old Cotswold wether (a castrated male sheep), who is probably my favourite of the flock, but he is very high maintenance. He was the last offspring of Foz's favourite ewe Maisie, who was very ill when he was born and died when he was a week old. Alfie himself was very unwell, and it seemed unlikely that he would pull through, but thanks to the dedicated nursing of my friend Fiona, he did survive, albeit in a slightly wonky and strange way! I got him when he was 4 months old or so, and became so fond of him that I couldn't send him to the abattoir - so he has stayed, making himself very useful in the ways only he can. He will walk on a halter, come when called, go into the trailer practically before the ramp is completely down, and is always cheerful and friendly. He loves meeting people, so is always a star attraction on Open Farm Sunday (coming up on 1st June... watch this space!)

So far, so cute. However, life with Alfie has a down-side, and it is that he is very accident prone. If anyone in the flock gets fly strike, it is Alfie. If someone hurdles the electric fence and falls into the fast-running ditch, necessitating Foz to go in over his wellies in order to effect a rescue, it is Alfie. The escaper who can blunder through the electric fence and be found happily grazing on the other side... well, that's Alfie too. Here is a photo of Alfie taken today:

No, he's not a goat - they have just been sheared - and actually, he's scratching himself. See anything else unusual? Natty legwear, huh?


Alfie has managed to sprain a tendon. This, I am told, is an unusual injury for a sheep. He is absolutely hopping lame, but otherwise completely unaffected. I'm not sure how he did it (I suspect a scrap with last year's ram lamb, who is looking increasingly tasty and will be got rid of next month) but he is completely out of action. Our homeopathic vet has recommended we shovel large amounts of arnica down Alfie's throat, and Alf has managed to work out that if he drops the carrot which the pill is balanced on (thus losing the pill in the grass, from whence it will never be retrieved), then dives for the carrot and eats it from the ground before we can get to it, then he will get another piece. He is having his bandage changed twice a day, and ensures that he always wanders in amongst the thistles for this to be done. He cannot be separated from the flock, otherwise he has a complete meltdown, but he does have his house, of which he is very fond:

I cannot believe he has done this. He could be lame for up to 4 weeks. Edward, our lovely vet, said to me 'don't worry, Alfie will be around to plague us for the next few years', so I'm glad to know it's not a life-threatening injury, but I have to say, I was hoping for a quieter sheep time of things. Sigh.