Sheep Dipping Time

Hello again from Dingley Dell, deep in the heart of Wales. Excuse me while I just have a good scratch...Ahhhh! there that's better. Sort of feel all itchy, so i do. My name is Gywneth and one of my best friends is named Bronwyn.

Fly and Shep

There are other friends of mine in this field. About 50 there are but i'm not to sure as sheep can't count too good. There may be more.

We all live on this farm called Foxglove Farm. Pretty name isn't it. It got it's name from the rather tall flowers that grow freely in the woods at the bottom of the present field we are in. We do get moved around from time to time to pastures new as it happens, so it seems.

Oh! here comes Fly, one of the farm dogs. "Hello Fly. What are you looking so smug about ? "

Fly barks and rounds us all up and says, " time for your annual dip ".

Us sheep don't like getting too near Fly. He has bad breath so he does.

Shep, another of the farm dogs and Farmer Jones is by the top gate of our field waiting for us girls. As we approach the gate he opens it allowing us to be driven out to where we are to be...dipped.

Today Farmer Jones has a 'helper', a Farmer Pilkington. If you remember I have mentioned the Pilkingtons before when their dog, a German Short Haired Pointer (gun dog to you and me), entered a Talent Contest. Our Grace, the sheep over there entered and did a wonderful rendition of 'The Sugar Plum Fairy' so she did. 

Anyway to get back to the point Farmer Pilkington has this long stick thing which he uses to push us girls under the water with. Three at a time we go through this sheep bath and get un-ceremon-iously right and properly dunked. I broke that last word up in case some of you find it hard to say like.

Angel, the white sheep with the blue eyes bleats, "Thought only biscuits gets dunked ! " as she splutters and coughs on scrambling out through the gate that appears when all parts of sheep have been thoroughly immersed.

3 at a time we go through the 'dip' Urgh!

This sheep dip is a liquid formulation of insecticide and fungicide which shepherds and farmers may use to protect their sheep from in-fes-tation against external parasites such as itch mite (Psorobia ovis), blow-fly, ticks and lice....another long word, well quite a few but I think you will manage to say them...if not I hear Farmer Jones often telling his long suffering wife to "Google It" whatever that is. So you could do the same couldn't you, see ?

As the sheep dips contain chemical insecticides that are highly toxic to aquatic plants and animals, it is important that the dip and us dipped sheep are well managed to avoid spreading the chemicals and causing water pollution and soil con-tam-in-ation.

Farmer Jones and Farmer Pilkington are VERY careful to follow instructions on sheep dipping which although protect us girls from all these nasty parasites, can be highly toxic to say the least. Rumours have been circulating that the health of thousands of farmers and their families are being destroyed by using highly toxic organo-phosphate (OP) chemicals to dip their sheep.

Ministers were only too aware that the government had forced the farmers to use these chemicals, which its own Veterinary Medicines Directorate had licensed as safe to use.

Needless to bleat, measurements were being taken by the use of overalls, wellington boots, gloves and such by our farmer owners to make it safe for them.

I baa'rs to the girls and gives them some information they might find useful, so I do "After using the sheep dip chemical, an approved enzyme is used at the place where we sheep were dipped to render it safe...well as safe as can be."

As I related this useful information to the other sheep in the flock, some of us thought we should protest against this

Angel demonstrates adequate protection !!!

chemical...and Myfanwy (the ewe that has a lisp) even went so far as to baa that she was going to request gloves, wellington boots, overalls and the such, next 'dipping'...else she "wouldn't be taking part so there", and stamps her front feet to make it plainer, see.

All done ! Back to the field we trot...all a little bit heavier...and you know what ? My itching thing had gone away !!!

Fleeced !

Hello there, Gywneth here and a very good afternoon too you all from Foxglove Farm in Dingley Dell, deep in the heart of Wales.

I have excellent hearing

It's a lovely spring day, sun is out but cool as a sprightly breeze is blowing across our field. Clover is growing nicely though. Ooooo I do like my clover, so I do.
Oh! did you know that sheep have excellent hearing. They can direct their ears in the direction of a sound. Sound arrives at each ear at slightly different times, with a small difference in amplitude. 
 I can hear my best friend, Bronwyn, munching her way up to me, "Hello Bronwyn."
"Hello Gwyneth." she baa'rd, and with a slight frown or puzzled look you could say, she resumed, "You know what we heard Farmer Jones talking about the other day while he was leaning on 'top gate' ?
"What's that then Bronwyn, only I've been asleep since then ?" I baa'rd smilingly.
Bronwyn gave me a, 'I don't believe it look', and shook her head in disbelief. "Well, didn't he say that sheep are able to recognize the individual faces of at least 50 sheep and remember them for more than two years ?"

I'm losing my specialized area

"Yes I think so...ahh! it's coming back to me now, so it is. And your point being ?" I says to her, continuing to chew a...gorgeous bit of clover.
Getting a bit exasperated, see, Bronwyn prattled on," Farmer Jones said, as I recall that sheep are like humans in some respects. You see we sheep have specialized areas in the brain for face recognition and...."
"Oh spit It out ewe !" Getting a bit fidgety, like I was.
Bleating furiously now she goes on...."I think I'm...loosing my specialized area," baa'rd Bronwyn, looking all forlorn, so she was. "There I've said it. So...what do you think ?"
"Hmm, and why do you think that you are, let me get this straight...loosing your mind did you say." I sighed.
"Just now...down there...at the bottom of the field...by the woods...I saw...I saw...a sheep that I did not recognize!!!"
"Oh, go on with you," I said nudging Bronwyn in her side, "I'm sure there's a good reason. Let's go and see together shall we. "So walking down to the bottom of the field, passing some of our field mates, (around about 50 of them including us I'm guessing as sheep can't count) I tests Bronwyn out.
I asks her, "Who's that?" and she comes up with the correct names.
"That's Snowdrop...Myfanwy...Grace...Angel...Gwladus..."

Why aren't you two girls wearing your wool ?

"Well I never!" exclaims I. "Who's that ? And why aren't you two girls wearing your wool ?" I ask as we pass Anwin and Cati.
Poor ewes...Anwin and Cati were s~h~i~v~e~r~i~n~g so they were! All they could manage was to point on further down the field.
There at the bottom of the field was a larger than normal big snouted...sheep...with larger than life teeth and ears that were longer than sheep ears. Ugliest looking sheep I HAD never seen before so it was.
"GrrrArrrrr, growled the...ugly looking 'sheep', my name is

You really need to buy this!!!

'Michael-soft' I see you have come to exchange your wool for this rather splendid looking anti-virus package. You definitely will NEED this !! Buy this from me with your wool and you will then be protected against attacks from Worms, Trojans, Phising, Cryptovirology and a whole load of other unpleasant things YOU sheep, oops! meant WE sheep seem to be susceptible to.
"ooOOoo" exclaimes me and Bronwyn, both together and at the same time like...pretty impressed we was and just about to hand over our wool...when...Fly, one of the farms sheepdogs comes charging through the field, flies at this ugly looking sheep, snarling and barking like mad and chases IT off.

Be off with you...barked Fly

"Whatever have you done that for ?" we bleat.
Fly looks us straight in the face and says, "That was no sheep ! If you need protection from the REAL Michael-soft you have to contact him through whatever means you have and NOT the other way round." growled Fly. "That was a scam. No one can say that they are acting on behalf of Michael-soft, the ugly looking sheep, who really is a wolf in sheep's clothing. You are lucky to have me as your protector. 
"Thank you Fly," we bleat and hold our noses (as Fly has bad breath). Fly slinks off close to the ground, rounding up the other sheep. And me and Bronwyn sneak into the farmhouse to borrow some knitting needles off Mrs Jones the farmers wife(we never steal, just borrow things)..."Now, anyone got a pattern to knit two very needed jumpers ?" bleats Gywneth.

Take With A Pinch Of Salt

Mrs Jones is the owner of quite a few cats...well they are needed see, to catch the mice and rats ! The barn where the hay and feed is kept for Hercules and others, makes a rather cozy place out of the wind and rainy weather for the little furry creatures as well as free food for them, so it does.

Garfield, Molly, Tabby and Felix

The names of just a few of the cats we have on the farm are, Felix, Garfield, Tabby and Molly. 

Mrs Jones has a favourite cat, the one called Molly. Molly says she is exempt from catching vermin as she says it's  'beneath' her...whatever that means ! She likes nothing better than stretching out and lying around in the sun. Her favourite hobby besides eating is...reading the newspaper. Well I don't know whether to believe her or not ? Mrs Jones allows Molly to live in the farmhouse. The other cats have to make do with living outside. Whats wrong with living outside ? They have the barn and the stables to hunt in or lie around in out of the rain. The rain is no problem for us sheep. No we're not soft.

She says she reads the news

Oh here comes Molly now. I walk a few steps towards her.

"Hello Molly," baa's I, "What are you up to today then ?"

"Just the usual," she meows, "a bit of this and a bit of that. She sit's and licks her paws, I know she is itching to tell me more...and sure enough she meows, "Did you see all the mice I caught last night ? The Mistress was very pleased with me."  

Now I knows and you knows that Molly's stretching the truth here because I'll let you into a little secret see. Last night me and a few of the girls were up by the gate watching the proceedings of the other cats bringing their 'kills' to Molly, who picked them up and dropped them at the farmhouse door.

Whatever favours she gave them in return...I couldn't really say. But there is something definitely fishy here ! In the morning Mrs Jones praises Molly when she sees all the little dead bodies lined up...but she doesn't touch them. No she doesn't !

All in a row

It seems that Farmer Jones has the job of...disposing of the bodies. I've seen him tossing them in the muck pile so I have.

Molly gets up, flicks her tail a time or two and walks off back up to the top gate and squeezes underneath with ease. 

Fly runs over to Molly and I can't bear to watch! Molly spits at Fly, thrusts out a paw with claws out and goes for his nose. He'll never learn.  

So what's the point of me telling you all this I hear you say ?

Well the point is...you can't believe everything a cat tells you ! I heard Mrs Jones once say that she takes everything with a pinch of salt ! I think it's something like this salt lick that Hercules has....so I do.

Amazing Grace

Come and meet our Grace, the smut faced sheep. She's a bit shy, but she has an E-N-O-R-M-O-U-S talent so she does. We didn't really know about this talent until....
One day it went around that Physco Simon off 'Wales Got Talent', was coming to Dingley Dell. He was desperate to fill requirements for his T.V. show, so it seems.
Megan said she was going to do some magic tricks and ran off to look in the barn where she had stashed a box full of tricks. Then Anwen and Haf went off to practise their tap dancing on an old sink in the out-building where Mr Jones sometimes brews his beer. Cati said she would sing and surely get through to the finals. Grace disappeared into the farmhouse where we heard noises coming from the study where Mrs Jones also does her mending and sewing. Prrrrrrrrr prrrrrrr, thats what I heard and it wasn't no cat!.
Dingley Dell Village Hall was where the auditions were taking place. We couldn't all go as Farmer Jones would think rustlers had been if he came to check up on us. This would take some organising as Farmer Jones was in the wood just behind our field with Gyp the young pup who if you remember had taken Mrs Jones hand mirror and dumped it at the bottom of the field where the big thistle was, so she had.

The wood where Foxgloves grow.

Well now it seemed he was training her in the woods just beyond the bottom of our field. Something about truffles I had heard him saying to Mrs Jones. You dig them up once you've found them apparently. Although I like mine out of a chocolate box, see.
Anyway that's besides the point.
To get to the village we was hoping to use the trail in the woods where we have the most beautiful foxgloves growing (that's why the farm is called Foxglove Farm). It leads all the way down to the village. Eventually...I thought of a plan. Squeezing under the floppy bit of fence at the bottom of the field, like, and with a stone or two, a twig and elastic band converted into a catapult, some of the girls get ready to run. Next we spy Farmer Jones and Gyp and Haf gets a well aimed shot at Gyp, who yelps with surprise and tears off further into the woods with...guess who. Yes Farmer Jones. So all's clear and we hurriedly make our way down to the village hall. 
When us girls get there, Hercules was already doing his party bit. He was singing Mule Train, and every time he came to the whip noise in the song, he improvised by hitting himself over the head with an old metal tray ! Listen...
Mule train, yeah, yeah.
clippetty-clopping over hill and plain.
Seems as how they'll never stop.
Clippetty-clop, clippetty-clop, clippetty, clippetty,
clippetty, clippetty, clippetty-clopping along........and so on!
It made us giggle. I think he over did it because he almost knocked himself senseless so he did. Physco Simon hid his head in his hands and lamented, ' Get that stupid horse off NOW '.

Pointer a pointing 

Waiting for Chico to do......?

The Pilkingtons (who owned the adjoining farm to ours), well their dog a German Short Haired Pointer (gun dog to you and me), was buzzed off as he only pointed see. And little Chico the Chihuahua sort of froze...sitting on his cushion, so we didn't know what he was going to do. The 'twin' Shetland ponies sang about pulling a glass carriage for

Itsy & Bitsy

Cinderella, almost in tune. Then our Megan entered the stage with a fez on her head. She did some magic tricks but, Megan's tricks went all wrong just like that. We watched the acts as one by one they came onto the stage. Cati sang her little heart out but got buzzed off.
Anwin and Haf chickened out, sort of, think you call it 'stage fright'.
And then it was the turn for Grace to come on. Ahh, so that's what she was making, a beautiful pink tutu, and to our

Roses were thrown for an outstanding performance !

amazement she could dance and gave a very good rendition of 'The Sugar Plum Fairy'. Flowers were thrown onto the stage and the audience clapped loud and long.
'I'll let you know.' sighed Physo Simon.
Well we thought she was great! "That's amazing Grace." we all baa'rd. Well us sheep did anyway. Back home all of us girls related to the others what a grand time we had and Grace danced for the rest of the sheep until she fell down exhausted, so she did

Ramasees The Ram

Luv'ly day isn't it. Just breathe in all that fresh Welsh air. The suns a shining, there's a gentle breeze a blowing everthing is...just luv'ly, so it is. Whats even better to my mind is...today's the day that Ramasees the ram comes to stay with us for a month or so. He has very important business to do. Here comes the trailer now. We girls poke our noses as far through the gate as we can to get a better look. Farmer Jones and another man help Ramasees to get his crayon thingy strapped to his belly.

Let's start with yellow

"Looks like a bloomin' medal, so it does." says Bronwyn, pushing through to the front of the gate. Bronwyn is my best friend, so she is.
Gwladus bleats in my ear, "Wonder what colour he's wearing this year ? I hope it's pink."
"Don't be stupid." says I, "we had that colour last year so we did. I hope it's purple like that thistle in the hedge at the bottom of the field." 
"Baa-Argh! Oh no it's plain yellow look you," baa's Snowdrop. 
Ramasees the ram looks awfully pleased with himself no matter what colour he's wearing this year!
Farmer Jones whistles Fly to move us sheep away from the gate. So reluctantly we sheep go running off, but not too far, to the corner of the field like, and Farmer Jones allows Ramasees to go through the now open gate, into the field where we are.

"Hi girls," smirks Ramasees, "Who wants to be first ?"
All we girls can do is giggle like...like a flock of silly sheep, see.
Myfanwy saunters up to him and lisps,"Remember meeffth." and flutters her eyelashes at him. She continues, "I doofth so like your hornsffh. Sowffth huge anffth curley.

I'm all yourffth--(yellow arrow points to little black book!

"How can I forget you erm, Myfanwy isn't it ?" He looks in his little black book. It is full of names. "Ah! yes you speak very..."
"Eloquently."interrupted Myfanwy.
"I was about to say, how can I put it, different, from the others here." noted Ramasees winking his eye at her.
Seems she's ready for love, so off they go to the bottom of the field for a bit of hanky-panky. Oh! here they come back now thought I. That was quick!
Next we see Ramasees whispering into Grace's ear. Grace later told me he was whispering sweet nothings or such ? Oh well, that's another one who's fell for his charms, but I won't, so I will.
"Help, I'm going weak at the knees."exclaimed Angel. Yet another sheep succumbs to Ramses's charms.
There, leaning on the gate is Farmer Jones and his long-suffering wife. I hear Farmer Jones say to her, "Should get some nice lambs in about 5 months don't you think dear?"

There he was...GONE!

And so it goes on like this for another month, until every ewe had a crayon mark on their backs, so it did. Hang on. Not everyone had the same colour on their back. Some had yellow, and when the colour ran out there was orange and others had blue. I turned to look at my luv'ly blue mark on my back. 
"Who's next ?" grinned Ramasees.
But there are no more takers up on his offer. Not here anyway. I hear Farmer Jones saying "he's done his job"...whatever that was as I didn't see him doing much.
Well one morning we saw Ramasees back end going through the gate and back into the trailer he had come out of...and there he was...GONE!...so he was.

Mirror Image

Gwyneth talks to new sheep

A strange thing happened in the field where we were grazing the other day. I was trimming the clover at the bottom of the field when I came across this new sheep. She had a grey head much like mine...well she did looked familiar but I couldn't recall for sure like. So after introducing myself and waiting for a reply (I'm sure she spoke while I was talking), this new sheep gave me a blank stare. Perhaps she's shy I thought so I did. So I told her, come and join us at the top of the field, you're most welcome. As I walked off I could see without turning my head round that she was walking too...but in the opposite direction. Not very friendly I thought.
I'll go and tell Bronwyn, perhaps this new sheep will respond to Bronwyns pleasant personality...not that you could call me unpleasant, oh no! I can tell you I am one of the easiest to get along with sheep in the flock or so I thought. "Hey Bronwyn," I bleated to her, "there's a new sheep down at the bottom of the field by that big thistle in the hedge. She's much like me, go and see if you can make friends and get her to come up here for a chat."...so this is what happened...let me take you back to that day..........

Looks more like me says Bronwyn

"I'll go and look." Says Bronwyn. So off goes Bronwyn. A short while later Bronwyn comes back. "She walked off the other way with me too...by the way, I think you got it wrong Gwyneth, she looks more like me so she does."
"Don't talk daft" I replied in an hoity-toity way. "Hey Snowdrop, come here a bit luv." So I tells her the same as I had told Bronwyn to go down to the bottom of the field where the big thistle is growing in the hedge and see if she can persuade the new sheep to come and join us.
Snowdrop comes back..."Well I think you'll all wrong so I do, the new sheep looks more like me! In fact, you could easily mistake her for my twin."
"Ah! Rubbish." retorts I, getting rather uncomfortable with it all. So all of us sheep about 50 of us (well I'm not too good a counting so I'm just guessing the numbers here), we took it in turns to go and see the new sheep at the bottom of the field by the big thistle growing in the hedge...if she's still there that is.

She's a very good mimic baa'rd Grace

Grace, the smut-faced sheep reported back to me, "She's a very good mimic. Every time I wink at her she winks straight back. But...she's more like me you know, she has a smut-face."

Angel, another sheep races up to me and she said that the new sheep is like her...pure white with blue eyes (this is very unusual for a sheep...to have blue eyes!)
Gwladus, (in English this would be spelt Gladys) strolled up to me and proclaimed, "Well I never in all my born days," she gasped " After trying to engage the new sheep in idle chit-chat, she just kept answering me back quicker than a flash...but I couldn't catch any of her words. She spoke so fast that when I had finished talking, so had she! By the way...you are ALL wrong, the new sheep looks like me so she does.

Well I never ! exclaimed Gwladus

Now for all of you who have not met Gwladus, she is like me, but black where my grey is.
"Myfanwy," I interjected (and for all those who do not understand the last word...that means I interrupted as she was talking to Snowdrop).
"What is it Gwyneffth dear." a lisped reply came. We do not joke about Myfanwy's lisp see...well not much.
"Go and see once and for all the new sheep and make friends and bring her up to the top of the field. You are the last resort!
Myfanwy came back and went on,"Now don't be angrffth with me but she walked away. She wrinkled her nose up as she went 'cauffth I saw her as I was returning so I ditffh, and by the way Gywneffth, I don't know whats wrong with the other sheeffth eyesight as I saw a brown headed sheeffth with white tips on her ears and a white bloffth on her nose."

Ahhh! much like you  Myfanwy

"Ahhh! much like you then. But we can't be ALL right ? I concluded. Just then we sees Mrs Jones. She must of walked passed us, so I follows her...all the way down to the bottom of the field...looking everywhere like she'd lost something or was that looking for something ?

Mrs Jones's dressing table  mirror

She bends down next to the big thistle and picks up a...object...and I hear her say, "So that's where that naughty puppy put you down, " I've found my mirror dear." she shouts to where Farmer Jones is standing by the top gate. Well she looked pleased anyway. She looks in the thing...what was it she called it ? Mirror, yes that's it...M I R R O R. 
Well I bet she can see the new sheep in that! We never found that sheep again. Wonder what happened to it ?

We Luv Gardening Too

This Is Mrs Jones. I feel sorry for Mrs Jones as she has a lot to put up with. So to relax she loves to get In her garden. I hear

Mrs Jones

Farmer Jones say she is a natural and has green fingers ? Well I'm sorry but they look normal to me. Though our colour vision is not as well-developed as it is in humans...so who knows !  As I look side ways through our field gate...I must say here that we sheep have excellent peripheral vision and can see behind without turning our heads. However, we have poor depth perception. That means we cannot see immediately in front of our noses and some of our vertical vision may also have been sacrificed in order to have a wider field of vision. For example, it is doubtful that us sheep would be able to see something in a tree from close up, but I can see the front of the farmhouse...be it a little off center.
To get back to the point...there is another gate attached just to the left of the farmhouse. Apple trees stand just inside the gate with a worn grass path that leads around to the back of the farmhouse. And that is where Mrs Jones has a small vegetable plot she cul-ti-vates,( I broke that word up as you might find it hard to say so you might). Where is all this going I hear you say ? 
Well Hercules just luvs apples so he does. Ah, I can see your cogs working now. It just so happens, like, that Hercules is very clever at opening gates. He's not daft ! When he opens the gate, it gives us girls chance to squeeze through the gap at the corner of our field see, and through the gate he's just opened. He leans hard, so he does, on the trees and sometimes kicks them to make the apples fall. Oh, here he comes now...yes he's opened the gate...and begins to eat the fallen apples first.
With tools in our feet and mouth that were formally hidden under the hedge, some of us sheep make a quick dash to the vegetable plot. It's our turn to help poor Mrs Jones. The grass over here tastes nice too. Snowdrop said it tastes better on the other side where the grass is greener.
"I'm very glad to help out." Bleats Bronwyn. She gets to grips with pulling the long grass out with her teeth. Well she has to fill her 'four-chambered' stomach. Bet you didn't know that, but we sheep chew the cud.

Gwyneth, Bronwyn and Snowdrop

I gets to grips with a fork and trowel I brought over. I start to perspire a little under all this wool. "Boyo!" I exclaim,"This is hard work." But I continue on and get all the weeds out...shearing time will come soon. Time passes.
"So, where is everyone ?" baa's Bronwyn.
"I heard Mr Jones say he was off to inspect his cornfields this morning," replies myself "and Mrs Jones said she was off to the library to exchange her books and meet up with her sister for coffee and a chat in town."
"That will be at Cheswicks the coffee shop then I expect,"added Snowdrop, "Or I do believe you can get coffee from the library...and a snack of some sorts."
"There, I think we're done for the day." This is said by Grace, the smut-faced sheep.
I must say that Farmer Jones helps out Mrs Jones when he is not too busy, but not a lot and not often, NO.

A Rare Occasion...with  Farmer Jones helping

His way of relaxing is listening to classical music, watching the telly,(channel hopping...often) and generally just...lying around the place ! He works so hard, not !
Time to make our way back to the field. Hercules is still here...by the trees...resting. Don't worry...he can close the gates too! "Better get back." I mumble to Hercules," You don't want to miss out on your tea."
I hear Hercules close the gate and clip clop back to his field. We girls push through the small gap in our field...and soon...everything is back to...how it should be...so it is!