No Fences... DAMN YOU, GARTH BROOKS!!!

Naturally, it would be ironic that Garth Brooks would come out of retirement and release a new album right about the time we got the great idea to add sheep and goats to our menagerie.  A great idea, I might add, that we had while we were sober.  Usually, those kinds of ideas hit you after a long night, hanging out with your friends, doing things that are often prefaced by, "Hold my beer, and watch this..."

Those days are long past us, but those brain cells never grew back, apparently.  As a result, we now are the proud owners of 10 sheep... and a goat.

Now, we thought we were pretty awesome little farmers.  We were diversified.  We were no longer subject to the whims and fancies of the meat market.  We were liberated from the shackles of limited culinary options.  We were free... and so were they.

You know that scene in X-Men, where they inject the senator with mutant DNA, and he suddenly can squeeze through spaces?  Yeah.  THAT'S SHEEP AND GOATS IN A NUTSHELL.

These diabolical little fuzzballs are capable of restructuring their DNA to allow for skeletal displacement, and therefore squeeze through the tiniest cracks under fences, gates, through walls, and I'm pretty sure, through chicken wire.

Now, the sheep are cool.  They're all like, "Hey, wazzup? We got out again.  It was over here this time.  Here, let me show you."  And in response, I'm all, "Cool, awesome. Here's some food. Let me go get another post, and another 330 feet of woven wire..."

And trust me.  There's no question when they've found a hole.  You'd swear your herd grew by a thousand while you're trying to fix it, because they're all curious what you're up to, and have no fear, because you, in another one of your moments of genius, decided let's give them treats so they'll like us every time we show up.  DUMB DUMB DUMB...

At this point, I think our family emergency code phrase is, "SHEEP SHEEP SHEEP."  That's all it takes, and hanging up, and within 15 minutes the entire posse shows up with posts, wire, drivers, and the cavalry, prepared to put those wooly buggers back in.

However... GOATS ARE NOT COOL.  Goats run.  They run fast.  They do not like you.  They're like, "I heard you say I was meat goat.  You think I'm stupid?  You think I'm going to stick around?  I distinctly heard the word KEBAB!"  Note to self, in the future, call them milk goats.  Then they'll only run away if they get offended from being fondled...

We had the goat for EXACTLY 5 minutes.  I had just got done saying, "Well, we made it 5 minutes, so we must be good."  WRONG.

Goats think fences are fun.  That they're a puzzle that must be figured out.  Whoosh, under the fence she went, out she was, and off she flew.  Six men proceeded in a break neck run after a little red headed goat, 300 yards, then up a straight cliff, then they all fell off, and then proceeded to run back 300 yards, and swan dive on her.  That's when we figured out what that collar was for...

These are all learning experiences for us.  Some day, we'll have figured out about half of it, and that will either gain us the ability to keep them in, or make it to where we just don't care.

But, horses schmorses, Garth.  The song would have been more convincing if you had said that Wild Goats kept dragging you away.  I've seen horses held back by a fence.  You're not fooling anyone.  The jig is up.

A Red-head Named Bernice

Sometimes, when things seem most stressful, it seems that God sees fit to bring distractions into your life to remind you that you have value and importance.  I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, our daughter has found herself in some legal woes which have put a considerable financial strain and concern on our family.  Some people can be told that A+B=C, whereas some people have to do A, take B, and be hit over the head with C.

When everything seemed so bleak, my father to top things off, thought it would be a good idea to blow up a rock next to our farrowing house 1 week before a litter of pigs was due.  He's a former SEAL who is a demolitions expert.  The rock went boom, and the piggy popped, and we had a litter of 11 premie babies born.  Three weren't done cooking, and the others were all small.  We took one piglet home to bottle feed as she was just too little, her legs were soft and bowing, and she wasn't able to compete for a nipple.  Seven, however, nursed to weaning, as their Hereford mother was insanely gentle and careful with them,  Truly amazing, hereford pigs are.

Meet Bernice.  For little more than a week, she got to wear popsicle stick leg braces because her ankles were turning in.  She was the perfect distraction for us during the court appearances, probation office meetings and constant updates from a high school counselor, who no doubt at this point, probably has prayed more for our family than most pray in their lives.  It took a tremendous amount of patience on her part, and prayers.  Lots and lots of prayers.  I believe strongly that the prayers helped.  At 10am on Graduation day, we weren't going to be attending, because our daughter was not passing... but by noon, the grades showed she would graduate.  Needless to say, we were very relieved.  Hopefully, it will give her the launching block needed once this whole thing is done to move forward in her life.

About a week after Bernice was farrowed, disaster struck.  A brand new pipe fitting that we purchased from Lowes, manufactured by Mueller Industries, had a casting defect, and cracked.  It flooded the swine barn, and as a result, the litter we were expecting with great anticipation all drowned... save one.  Little Noah.

She was beautiful.  Now, normally as farmers, we try to treat our animals as much as possible without going to a vet.  My father always says that we can kill them for free.  Vets have access to a lot of knowledge and medicine that we don't, but when your patient can't tell you what's wrong, it limits your abilities.  For five days, it was touch and go.  Bernice worked very hard to keep Noah alive.  When she'd start to fade, Bernice would nudge and nudge and pester and pester.  After some lameness and swelling in Noah's hocks, I believed her to have Strep.  Normally, we'd hit with high doses of penicillin.  But, because I was afraid to lose this pig, I took her to the vet.

Now, in the veterinarian's defense, Draxxin is a pretty awesome drug.  But, it's not what most would use to treat Strep.  Penicillin is still the go-to for it.  But, she had a little crackling in her lungs, so he treated her with Draxxin.  Sadly, she passed away about 6 hours later.  Bernice came down with swelling of the hocks as well, and we hit her heavy with penicillin on the advice of another veterinarian, and she recovered perfectly.

I wouldn't have taken her to the vet, except she was the last one.  The only one.  And I really wanted to save her.  It was a $135 lesson, and one I won't repeat.  As for Mueller Industries, they have absolutely no interest it would seem in doing anything to make it right.  I have been forced to seek remedies through other means than being nice.

My Aunt and cousin were kind enough to send Bernice more toys than I think I had when growing up.  She loves her monkey.  But, she has an uncanny knack of piling them up in the corner of her pen, and climbing out.  One morning, with eyes shut, I was groggily roused from my slumber by oinking.  I thought to myself that the oinking sounded really loud.  Then I thought that it sounded CLOSER.  I rolled over and looked down, and sure enough, there was a little red pig staring up at me.

I can't cook.  I can't clean.  I can't even use the bathroom without that little red demon pig leaping out of her pen, running down the hallway, and jiggling the door until it opens.  The cat is not pleased.  The pig thinks she's a cat.  After a trip to pick up some sheep, we came home.  We opened the door, and there sat the cat, and next to her was Bernice.  BERNICE.

And you can't punish a pig.  There's nothing to take away.  There's no way to scold them, aside from playing whackamole when they try to jump out in front of you.  We are being held hostage by a tiny porcine terrorist.  Send help!