Footprints on the Web

Docking time is one of the busiest, messiest, most stressful and time consuming activities on the farm. This is when we go field by field separate 100s of mama sheeps from their lambs on each field. Then we dock the lambs’ tails using an expansion pliers. We insert an elastic ring on its head and insert it on the tail and let go at the mark where its just enough to cover their butthole. Additionally, we make a cut on female lambs’ left ear to identify them as females and castrate the male lambs by again using the plier and tying an elastic band around their scrotum so that they do not impregnate the females. We dock the tails because sheep are prone to a condition called flystrike where flies lay eggs on their butthole and they hatch into maggots. These can prove to be lethal for sheep. All sheeps on the farm for this reason have docked tails as they were docked when young.  Some male lambs are left intact because they will grow into rams the farm will use to impregnate the flock for the following year. These ideal suitors are selected mostly by their looks, size and breed. The larger healthy looking male lambs with distinct features make the cut although the shepherds always have a way to tell which ones will.

First day of docking, I did not know what I was to expect. We went to the field where the first group we were going to work on for the day was. The goal was to move 100s of sheeps and their 265 lambs to the barn from the field. This process is called sheep drive. Easier said than done. They are not very intelligent. They run all around, scatter, are easily scared and get distracted with wanting to eat grass. Oh, and they don’t understand what you say. Absolute fucking nightmare. We went to the field, all 8 of us in 5 ATVs. It felt like the opening scene of an action thriller movie. Driving in the ATVs, we herded them slowly towards the barn. All the mother sheeps were baahing and lambs bleating. We were pretty spread out on our ATVs so would have scream at each other over all the noise and point out if a sheep or lamb was getting away. If they did, we would either drive the ATV towards them so that they go in the opposite direction or a passenger on the ATV would step down and walk towards the lost sheep to send them scattering towards the rest of the herd. We also had these really long pieces of sacks that we held as barriers so that they, especially the lambs wouldn’t get away. If one snuck below the sack, one of us would lunge at it and throw it back into the pile. You had to be completely attentive doing sheep drives. One runaway and they would have the whole damn field to run off to and chasing them would be futile. Christian or not, I am sure everyone’s heard the parable of the shepherd who left his 99 sheeps in search of one that is lost. As I dropped the sack, to go after a single lamb few times, I was reminded of this parable and Jesus Christ multiple times this week.

Once we managed to get all the ewes and lambs into the barn we had to sort through them. Ewes and lambs were to be separated. We forced them through these assembly line that had a gate the end with two exits. The shepherd stood at the gate and manually lifted the gate to let each ewe to the right of the barn and each lamb to the left of the barn. This took awhile. Ofcourse the moms were not happy and stressed out of their freaking mind for being separated from their babies and the lambs were completely lost and frantic looking for their moms. It really broke your heart to watch this. The desperate baahing and bleating got louder and louder. The lambs were then divided up in 3 barn sections as we began working on each section.

We worked in pairs. There were 6 of us (as other 2 left to do daily farm chores) so there were 3 pairs. For 2 of the dockers, they had 2 apparatuses each designed for docking where their helpers insert lambs that had stands to hold down them facing up while they were docked, castrated or ear clipped. For the 3^rd docker, who I was assisting, there was no docking apparatus so we did it manually i.e. I would go try to grab a lamb as they scattered everywhere, take him/her to the docker, hold them on a table and their legs down as the docker did all that was necessary before putting them in the ‘done’ pile. Some lambs were too weak but some were feisty and would put up a very good fight. Everytime I walked towards them, the scattered in every direction. They cried, kicked and sometimes I would have to lunge to get one or grab it by the leg. I felt like the God of death walking towards one and bringing it back to the table. Not my proudest moment. These lambs were not 10lbs like my dog. They were anywhere from 20-30lbs. Not too heavy, right? Try squatting, lifting and holding them as they struggled. Now try doing it 200+ times. Day after day for a week. And finally try doing all this being 4’10” and 92 lbs! Remember these are not stationary dumbbells but moving targets which makes it challenge to get them in the first place. Also when you hold them down manually with the help of no apparatus, you are asking to be kicked and punched in the face and chest.

The lambs squirm, twitch and yelp loud when they are being docked, castrated and clipped. The ones I held, I would talk to, say its going to be ok. I would continue to pet their chin. For most of them it seemed to calm them down as they continue to look into my eye or rest their heads on my neck or simply nibble on my chin. The clipping of the ear was the hardest for me to watch. They bleed pretty bad. When you looked at the done pile of lambs. Many had bloody ears and some of them had blood smeared all over one side of wool on their body. We sprayed them on their ears, tails, scrotum and belly button (where their dried up umbilical cords usually hung out) after each job to take further precaution against flystrike. I had blood splattered on my face, protective eyewear, arms, hands, gloves, shirt, pants, pouch, etc. I used to take a look at my clothes daily during docking week to take it all in before throwing it in my laundry bag.

The whole time the barn continued to sound like a slaughterhouse. Atleast to me. After the lambs were docked we worked on the mothers. Down the assembly line, taking count of them, checking their eyes to see if they were anemic and if so, administering meds through a pump. For new mothers (i.e. ewes who were just born last year and given birth for the first time), we tagged their ear. The tagger was larger than taggers used on lambs. Some of their hoofs had to be trimmed and these were identified by taking stock of limpers. Hoofs trimming required considerable body strength. This was definitely a shepherd task with helpers. It required the shepherd to catch a sheep as it came out of the assembly line and twist its neck and hold it down. We are talking a 300-400lbs sheep. The shepherd has to then flip it on its back so all 4 hoofs are pointing up and the shepherd along with one of the other farmers trims the hoofs. Once the sheeps are done, they are let out onto the same field close to the barn where the docked lambs are at and then happens the most incredible sight. With hundreds of lambs everywhere, the mama sheeps go around baahing and sniffing lambs as they continue to listen to the bleatings of the lambs. They scramble around. The run across fields. They go frantically searching for their little ones. And you know what? At the end of it all, they always manage to somehow magically find them all, Everytime. It truly gives you goose bumps.

We give them about an hour to find their little ones and settle in before repeating the sheep drive back to the field they came from. Same drill- driving ATVs, build a wall by everyone standing in unison with sacks, making noise, clapping, catching any escape artists. Thanks to the shepherd I got an opportunity to not just hold down lambs and sheeps. I got to dock a few females and clip their ears. I did the clipping of the ear very gently as I thought I was lessening their pain. But I was told to do it as quick as possible because in this case the slower/gentler you did it, the more pain they would feel. Quick hits were best. I tried castrating a male lamb but kept losing his balls so did not want to take a chance. It can get very tricky because of the position they are held it can recede internally, so you have to go fishing for it and make sure the elastic band gets it both. I also got to tag sheep’s ear. The tagger had to be used strategically. Quick hit and release if not, when the sheeps wiggle it can tear through their ears. Fortunately, I got it right. Alone with giving medication to them through the pump. I had to insert my hand into their mouth and hold it open and sturdy while I pumped meds into their mouth and hold their mouth and chin shut so that they wouldn’t spit it out. While trimming hoofs, I held all the trimmers and had to switch them out and dip them in bleach before handing to the shepherd. On the final day of docking, we did flocks that were younger mothers with lambs. We got the tables ready with elastic rings, pliers and spray bottles. But no ear clipper. I felt relief when I overheard that no female ears would be clipped for flock form that field. And then I learned why. It was because all the female lambs from this flock was going to the market when would be close a year old. My heart sank. On that day, everytime I picked up a lamb and flipped it to find that it was a girl, I was trying to hold back tears. With every single one. Back at my yurt that evening, I let it all out thinking that I helped dock lambs that were going to end up on someone’s plate.  

Everyday I was also in charge of bringing back ATVs we would leave on the fields during sheep drives to the barn so that once we were done for the day we could go back to the main farm. Some of these ATVs were older than me. There were ones without brakes or gears. You just made it work. There is one particular ATV that we call the “Beast” simply because of its enormous size. People on the farm always get a chuckle seeing petite me drive it. It never works, always stalls and hated by all. One afternoon, we were short on ATVs. So I loaded up Beast  with all the docking stuff, two tired and weary farmers on each side as passengers and drove them down to their homes. We didn’t talk much, we were exhausted. Everyone was running low on steam as the week went on. Some of us just get quiet when stressed. Some others take it out on others. But during docking week, whatever happened in the barn, stayed in the bar. As I turned a corner, I got a vision of my past life wearing business suit running a meeting. Quite a contrast my life was now. My chest and legs were pretty badly bruised by the end of the week. My chin had few tiny cuts and bumps. My glutes felt like a ton of bricks the every morning. Not sure why but hand cramps were pretty severe. I relied a lot on topicals and a heating pad aromatherapy rice bag on my hands and back. Laundry didn’t remove the blood stains on my shirts, gloves, pouch completely. All part of the trade.

This week taught me so many things- about people, animals, nature but most of all it taught me a lot about myself. I will endure through tough times because my focus is end of the tunnel. I refuse to give up halfway even when I am doing something that does not feel right or natural to me. However uncomfortable it feels, if I have given you my word that I will help you, I will honor it even when I physically, emotionally and mentally cannot. I now know that doing business using animals as a source of income is not for me. I simply cannot see them hurt so will prioritize them, their health and feelings over money. Not sure this is ideal if you want a profitable business. My favorite part of docking week still remains the reunion –  ending each day where mama sheeps go out into the field looking for their lambs, always managing to find them amongst hundreds and trotting along with frolicky ones happily ever after. That’s how I want and choose to remember docking.