A morning weighing sheep and goats

It’s a long drive out to the farm, but I was looking forward to it that Friday. The weather was good, the air was crisp, and I was going to spend the morning working with my hands.

My brother-in-law, Drew, needed some help weighing our sheep and goats. We weigh them to decide which are ready for the sale in Salem and which need more time to grow. It’s a straightforward job, provided you can convince each animal to walk onto a scale, stand still, and leave through the correct gate.

That last part would keep me busy.

When I arrived, Drew and Wesley, our farmhand, were getting things ready. Wesley had brought the dog he’s training to work with the animals. We checked the alley and gates before bringing the sheep and goats in.

As Wesley got out feed to draw the sheep and goats toward us, the smell of corn drifted over. I was looking the other way, but I recognized it immediately. It brought me back to an earlier part of my life when I worked on a farm.

I’m involved in the farm, but I don’t do its daily work. Standing there that morning, I was reminded how much I enjoy being around it.

Once we got going, Drew and I settled into a rhythm. I’d let an animal onto the scale, and Drew would record its weight. The panel would beep, he’d open the next gate, and I’d help the animal out. Then we’d do it again.

An animal could be through in about fifteen seconds. But given the choice, most preferred to turn around and leave through the entrance.

The sheep were usually easy enough to redirect. The goats were more determined. Fortunately, they have handles on their foreheads, although turning them around could still cost you a bruised finger or arm. Drew came away with a cut on the bridge of his nose when one of the more rebellious goats jumped completely out of the weighing station.

Meanwhile, Wesley was doing the harder work, bringing ten or twenty animals at a time into the alley and moving them toward us. Some of the goats would turn back, jump, or headbutt him in the thighs. From where I stood, I’d gotten the easier assignment.

With the three of us working together, we finished in about two hours.

Before I left, I told Drew I’d like to come out more often. I’d come to lend a hand, but somewhere between the smell of corn and turning another stubborn goat around, I’d remembered how much I enjoyed this work.

It was a good way to spend a morning. I want to make room for more of them.