I was fencing today. There are two reasons for making a fence. Fences are needed to keep animals out of an area or fences are required to keep animals in an area. Today I was concentrating on keeping animals out of an area. You see it’s nearing pumpkin planting and gardening season so the battle begins between the gardener and the deer population.

Deer love to eat anything I plant in the garden. They have a special fondness for pumpkins. In fact they seem to be drawn to the biggest and most beautiful orange ones. They have finicky taste buds too. It is not unusual to find a pumpkin with a gouge taken out of it by a taste- testing deer. When the flavor is not just right they move on to a more tasty orb.

It’s easy to recognize pumpkins with a good taste as the deer will eat gaping holes in them. I’m not quite sure why they don’t eat the whole thing, get full, scramble out the patch and leave the remaining pumpkins unscathed.  The ‘grass is greener’ concept might help explain things. We just have to rephrase it a little and say ” the pumpkin appears more orange and tasty on the other side of the patch”.:) So they go for it!

My fencing project was not too complex. I was making a few minor repairs after old man winter ravaged the chicken wire fence in a few places. As I made the repairs my thoughts drifted back to my kid days on the farm when fence making was a much tougher job.

We worked with barbed wire back in those days. Gloves were absolutely necessary because the barbs on the wire could leave your hands mutilated very quickly. Blood was a common sight in those early years of fence mending.

The goal of  fence building in those days gone by was different then today’s. We built fences not to keep things out but to keep the animals in. We raised pigs, sheep and cattle and all three required fences that kept them in a certain area.

Next to being attacked by a flailing strand of barbed wire the post hole digger offered the next greatest pain. My two brothers and I took turns cranking the post hole digger into the loamy soil until our Dad said we had gone deep enough to place a post into the newly dug hole. To this very day I owe my broad, muscular shoulders to the many hours I spent muscling that post hole digger into the ground those many years ago. (Did I hear someone snickering after reading that last sentence? Not very polite of you.) 🙁

Poor fences could lead to tragedies on the farm and that’s why we took fence building very seriously. Well we were mostly serious although I will have to admit more than a few chunks of dirt got thrown at the poor kid who was running the post hole digger. That continued until the guy manning the digger screamed loud enough to get the attention of our Dad. Then the flights of dirt balls quickly ceased!

How could a poor fence lead to tragedies you ask? I remember a couple vividly. One afternoon the cows broke down the fence and were caught grazing in the grain field next to the pasture. In the process of chasing the escapees back into the pasture I notice something flopping in the tall grass next to the downed fence. Upon closer examination I discovered a hen spoonbill duck thrashing wildly on the ground. Next to her was a clutch of a dozen duck eggs that she had been incubating.

A cow returning to the pasture must have stepped on her neck and broke it leaving the twelve eggs without their mother and her 105 degree body temperature needed to complete the 28 day incubation period. My brothers and I wanted to cry!

We gathered up the eggs and took them home. Then we went to the hen house in search of a cluck hen. Now you city folks may be asking what is a cluck hen. Well to put it simply it is a hen with hormone issues. Instead of laying an egg each day it would rather find a clutch of eggs and hatch them out. When these hormone issues arise the hen develops a clucking sound and becomes a vicious pecker if you try to remove the eggs that she is sitting on.

I can still remember how sad I felt when after scouring the hen house not one clucking hen was found. The eggs cooled and the baby ducklings died all because of a faulty barbed wire fence and one clumsy cow.

The other mishap resulting from a broken down fence was even more traumatic. I remember the incident like it was yesterday. I was home alone (that sounds like possibly a good movie title!) 🙂 when I spotted a sheep stumbling to the barn as it returned from the pasture.

The sheep resembled the Good Year Blimp. Immediately I recognized it’s problem. It was bloating. It must have been grazing in the alfalfa field where it wasn’t supposed to be grazing. The ingested alfalfa was releasing tremendous amounts of gas as it was being digested in one of the sheep’s four stomachs. The gas was trapped and causing the sheep’s stomach to swell.

If the gas wasn’t released quickly the sheep would suffocate and die. If there would have been time to call a veterinarian he would have been able to push a hose down the sheep’s esophagus to relieve the trapped gas. In fact I could have tried that technique myself but since we did not have running water on our farm we had no use for any hose. Thus there was no hose available.

The sheep was gasping for air, teetering on its feet with it’s tongue extended. Suddenly it fell over. I knew immediately what I needed to do. I turned and sprinted for the house.

Entering the kitchen I pulled open the silverware drawer and grabbed a steak knife. I then sprinted back to the barn where the sheep was gasping it’s last breath. Had I tripped and fallen on this mad dash I probably wouldn’t be around to share this story today.

I had never operated on a sheep before but I knew what I needed to do. I needed to plunge that steak knife between the sheep’s ribs and puncture the stomach, making an opening to relieve the trapped gas. And there wasn’t much time left as far as the sheep was concerned.

I felt the ribs beneath the layer of wool and located a space between the ribs. I plunged the knife into the sheep and like a volcano green grass bubbled through the resulting hole. I cheered!

But my joy was short lived however. There was too much partially digested grass. It couldn’t bubble out fast enough so the gas was unable to escape. If I had just had a short hose I think I may have been able to release the built up gas. Anyway the operation was a success but the patient died! 🙁

Just think if Facebook would have been around in those days. I could have posted the grass erupting through the hole in the sheep’s side and then started a ‘go fund me’ page for the sheep and probably garnered enough cash to put me through college. Veterinary school no doubt! 🙂

So I’ve learned to take fence building seriously. It can be a life or death experience.

I just had a thought. Mouth to mouth resuscitation hadn’t been invented yet but had it been might I have been able to save the poor sheep? No, I think not but I might have acquired a taste for partially digested alfalfa had I tried! 🙂

Until next time.