Minx
Posted: February 3rd, 2007 by Lisa
Minx, oh Minx. I’ll never sell her, because really, who would pay money for a sheep named Minx? I think that’s a little too much truth in advertising. She’s like a precocious, problem child, who I’d be embarrassed to take to a party. She’d sure be the center of attention, though!
We didn’t know better, honest! Our first clue was that when we first saw what later became our starter herd, everyone was calm in the pen, chewing their cud, except her. She was out of the pen, quietly browsing away without a care in the world. We could see where she’d bent back a corner to escape. “How cute!” we said.
We should have named her Houdini, honestly. If we want to know if a pen is ready to be used, we can put Minx in it, and she’ll show us the spots where some enterprising sheepie could get under the fence, climb over a gate, or reach a latch. She will move away rocks without a qualm that we place on uneven spots on the ground to keep her in.
Her mother, our leadersheep, (thanks Kaytla) taught her how to pull the lead from the electric fence to the battery. They work well as a team, and will sit together and intently stare at the battery and cable, trying to figure out a way to reach it, now that I am on to their tricks.
She is our most social girl, and loves to follow Frank around on the farm. She gets out so much, and is so damn cute, that he often lets her just keep him company, before walking her back to wherever she was supposed to be. She is too smart for her own good, and though we can usually catch her with grain, if she knows someplace yummy that she’d rather be, screw the grain, she’s going there.
She has scurs, not proper horns like her mother, sadly, (one of Sue’s only bad traits as a father) and because she is forever climbing fences and getting under them, she has ripped them off time after time. Every time she’s got some blood on her face, we have to check to see how bad it is, this time.
She had a horrible incident last summer when Valerie was home alone with her. Minx had gone over to see the new lambs from Fiona (Buster and Baabs), and evidently she did something that spooked Fiona, and ended up getting one horn ripped off really badly. Valerie had to catch her, with Bucky’s help, and rushed her off to the vet, who cauterized it. She then got out the next day, and would not come back in to Valerie for love nor money. I mean, Valerie did have a hot iron put to her head. Poor Minx got really skittish and freaky for a while, and hung out by herself for almost a month. Valerie just reminded herself that at least she was alive! I think they’ve slowly mended fences now.
Minx is so funny, so vocal. When I go out to feed them in the morning, she gives me a running dialog of all that’s gone on since I saw her last. She will stand still right in front of me and baa and baa at me, looking as if we are having a conversation. I babble back at her, and give her pets until she gets interested in something else. I tease her that she reminds me of a dyke forced to wear a dress in all her pretty fleece.
Even though she’s a 2004 baby, she’s being bred for the first time, this year, to Miguel. She was bound and determined to have nothing to do with him, and got out of their breeding pen about a thousand times. I think she finally cycled though, and now she and Miguel are jointly running that group. She’s the budding leadership, and clearly the brains. If only she’d stay put!
I can’t wait to see what kind of mother she makes. Her mother is fantastic, and I have high hopes for her.
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