There’s a doghouse in the field for Bravo, but he rarely uses it; perhaps he doesn’t get cold, but it’s hard not to project, since I would.  I have a stock of 3-year-old hay left in the barn by the previous owners, and I assume it’s got little nutritional value left, so I mostly use it as bedding.  I figured if I put some in Bravo’s house, he might find it more appealing and spend more time there on cold nights.  The law of unintended consequences took precedence, though:  the sheep find the crappy hay in the doghouse irresistible.

In other news, I got home from Boston to find ewe #132 with a prolapsed vagina once again.

This time I didn’t have Bill to corner the sheep and provide guidance at my side, and I was concerned that I was not equal to doing the deed alone.  On the phone, Bill encouraged me that I could handle this mini-crisis on my own, though he offered to come over and help.  Thankfully, the ewes are very calm around me in the barn these days, and I was able to catch #132 with little drama and address her condition.  I was equally relieved at helping the ewe and not having to drag Bill out here in the middle of his evening.  Slowly becoming a shepherd…