Sucklers may get aspirin (From Gazette & Herald)

Sucklers may get aspirin

I MAY at last succumb to one of those scores of advertisements on the television exhorting the fact that there is 'no pain without a claim'.

Whilst blow-drying my hair this morning, in direct pursuit of looking vaguely reasonable for the assorted livestock (I do not mean my husband of course) on this farm, I pulled a muscle in my shoulder and it is causing me immense agony to type this article on my PC. I intend to lay the blame for any deterioration in my usual standard of trivia onto the hairdryer's manufacturer. At enormous cost to them.

John was less than impressed by my low pain threshold. For several months now, I have been trying to persuade him to carry a pack of aspirins around with him, in case he should have a heart attack, bad cold, sore throat or headache from over indulgence.

"If you get pains in your chest, nose, throat or head, take an aspirin," I told him, after being reliably informed by endless friends that this was the cure-all to end all cure-alls.

"Most likely finish you off completely," John replied.

So when I was moaning in agony, hardly able to breathe at all because of the vice-like grip of my torn (I exaggerate of course) muscles, he wanted to know if I'd taken an aspirin, and looked highly amused and totally vindicated by the short, explicit reply he received.

It has been difficult to open doors, boil a kettle, and make breakfast, lunch, tea, and supper. Quite a useful illness really.

This week has seen an increase in the livestock action on the farm. Two of the ewes from the group caught fraternising with a neighbour's tup, have lambed, and the others must be close to lambing as the tup was only in with the flock for one night.

It has been a useful exercise in lamb preparation, as one of the ewes is not letting down much milk, so we have stocked up with ewe milk replacement powder and a couple of new rubber teats for bottle feeding. Just in case.

John plans to turn the ewe and her lamb out into the paddock as he hopes that some fresh grass will stimulate her milk production. She was a ewe that he had planned to send to market, as he had not originally planned to put her in with our tups.

Strange how these things work out. Now because of a chance meeting with a randy, roving tup, she's set up for the summer with a grand single lamb.

Our other drama this week has been weaning the calves from the suckler herd. The main herd is due to calve in a couple of months, and John wants to make sure that they devote their energies to their new calves and not to feeding the present hungry bunch. A spot of nifty gate opening and shutting in the foldyards separated the cows from their calves. But as they are housed in adjoining yards and can still see each other, even if they cannot reach each other, the noise level is terrific.

I have kept a very low profile in the village, as I am sure we will receive several complaints from neighbours whose sleep patterns have been disrupted by bawling calves and lowing cows. Perhaps an aspirin or two would knock them out for the night?

Updated: 15:53 Thursday, February 15, 2001