I think it's official - I have lost my mind. It's the ducks that did it. With help from Norman and Slimbo.
Tuesday, I let the sheep out into the fenced area in the back - full of nice, tall grasses and weedy bits. Wooba. I did my duck/chicken chores and was getting ready to head in to take a shower and leave for the yob, when I caught sight of Norman - and his massively bloody hind leg. I high-stepped it off the deck and out to their paddock and managed to get him to come to me by tempting him with a pan of grain. I had grabbed a halter on my way out, so I was able to get him haltered and tied to the fence while I attempted to check his leg. I couldn't tell where the wound was, but, from the amount of and color of blood, I figured he must have nicked an artery. Holey moley. I got a bucket of water and my canister of blood stop and managed to get some of his leg washed, most of my legs washed and emptied half the blood stop on the two of us.
Back in to call my vet - who was solo and couldn't come. He referred me to another vet and - thank my lucky stars - she turned out to be great. But it took three hours for her to get to me. In the meantime, I had a neighbor give me a hand so I could get a pressure bandage on his leg (note to self: do NOT put off restocking your livestock first aid kit) which consisted of an old bit of clean toweling wrapped with an ace bandage. Then I stalked around the house and grounds, waiting, whining and contemplating the insanity of doing 'this' solo. More fun and games were in store - I discovered my outdoor electrical outlet was dead. Slimbo peed on the dog bed (a sign that something is amiss - another vet appointment was made). My metal roofing was delivered in the middle of everything - that made two large checks I wrote that day.
Norman had, somehow, received a puncture wound that was just above an artery. He was very good for the vet (not so much me) and we managed to get the wound cleaned out and packed and wrapped. Tonight I need to get a neighbor back over to help me check and rewrap the leg. I am going through my list of neighbors, trying to figure out which one I haven't used up...
I know this is a test. However, I have never done well with tests. No matter what, reality keeps popping up its ugly little head, and downsizing is in my near future. Two of my female Ancona ducks, paired with two of my friend, Melanie's male Anconas, are up for sale. I realized this morning that I have one too many sets of ducks - there will have to be a whittling down of the middle set (Cayugas) as they are the set adding the most work to my already-limited day. They are not old enough to join the Anconas, but too old (large) to be in a brooder, so they have to be transported out to a pen every morning and back into their 'pool' inside every evening. It's nuts. I am, however, totally enamored of my baby ducks. No whittling there. I am seriously thinking of selling Norman - he's a dear but not an easy sheep for one person to handle. But, there's his gorgeous fleece... Ach.
Anyone need a duck or six? Mama Pea? :) I'm thinking of putting a disclaimer on this blog - "Warning! Don't attempt this at home!" Bring in the stunt double! Minions needed! Calgon ~ take me away! :)