Our Hampshire Down stock ram, Yarcombe Maximus, joined the ewes on the 5th – and by the 14th all 12 were sporting emerald green smudges around their nether parts, indicating that Max had been very dedicated in his romantic pursuit! This was a good sign, as it showed that having ‘flushed’ the ewes on our best grass, they quickly came into oestrus once in the presence of the ram. As far as I could tell, only two of the ewes returned to the ram (both within 6 days) following their first encounter, so I have my fingers crossed for a good, tight lambing early next April.
The
end of tupping marks a long holiday for ‘Max’, and when he reluctantly
leaves the ewes, we give him a good check-over: make sure there are no
sores on the brisket area (chest), and that the harness hasn’t chaffed
his skin anywhere; we also check his feet, and make sure he’s sound in
every way before returning him to his bachelor paddock. A ram will often
have lost a bit of condition during tupping, so we give him some good
quality hay as the grass doesn’t have a lot of nutrition in it at this
time of year. All animals need the company of their own kind, but even
though he’s going back to join his old buddies, there’s a danger that
they will fight, and rams can to serious damage to one another given the
chance! To prevent injury, we pen them tightly together for a few days
so that they can’t charge at one another, and hopefully they will sort
out the hierarchy so that they don’t fight once turned out together!With the end of November came one of the highlights in our social calendar, the Hampshire Down Sheep Breeders’ Association Christmas Party – it’s held in November as most HD breeders start lambing in early December! The ewes will naturally take the ram in July, and by lambing so early in the year, the lambs are well grown for both the summer shows and the autumn ram sales. I did consider the ‘lamb and turkey’ Christmas timetable, but the many joys of Spring lambing (leaving the lambing shed at 5a.m. to be greeted by the lark, and turning the ewes and lambs out onto fresh, green grass, to name but two) are some of the reasons I love keeping and breeding sheep, so we’ll stick to our April lambing!
We
have two groups of chickens, one a mixed bunch of Light Sussex, Legbar
and Marans, presided over by Eric, a handsome but ageing Welsummer
cockerel, and the other a small group of four Speckled Sussex hens and
their young pugilistic cockerel (called Sunday), who is hastening his
journey to the pot by taking every opportunity to fly at me, spurs
first, with the intention of inflicting maximum pain!
The
weather forecasters have been threatening severe winter weather this
year, and although there’s been no sign of it yet awhile, it’s worth
taking a few measures to be prepared for the worst and, at the same
time, get the chooks into a winter routine that both suits them and
saves me a few precious daylight hours to complete all the tasks around
the smallholding. You’ll find a number of useful tips on managing your
chooks through the winter in our “Things to do This Month” section HERE – most importantly, in frosty weather, check their water at least twice a day to make sure it hasn’t frozen.
The
climate this year seems to have favoured a virtual explosion in the
wild rabbit population in this area – it almost seems that wherever I
look, there is at least one rabbit in view. They may seem innocuous, but
en masse, they can do tremendous damage to crops, young trees, and my
vegetable garden – which, although fenced with small-meshed wire sunk
into the ground, is regularly invaded and plundered by bunnies! Although
this is annoying (very), nevertheless, I am dismayed to see that
Myxomatosis, or ‘Myxy’, has again infected our local rabbit population.
Almost daily we find at least one rabbit sitting hunched-up and not
scampering away as we approach. On closer inspection, the telltale
swollen, weeping eyes are clearly apparent, and the sick rabbit seems
unaware of the presence of a human.The Myxomatosis virus was introduced in the UK in 1953, and within just two years had infected and killed about 95% of the naïve rabbit population. Undoubtedly, the rapid spread of the disease was aided by human intervention, by moving infected rabbits around the country, but – as with most human attempts to interfere with nature, there were unexpected consequences and several other native species that preyed on rabbits as their main source of food, also experienced a severe knock-back in their population. Over time, rabbits developed a degree of genetic resistance to the disease, and populations again rose. These days, there are sporadic outbreaks from time to time, possibly aided by man, and sadly we have to deal with the sick rabbits. A sharp blow to the head with a heavy spade is quick and humane, but it’s a horrible job nevertheless.
