The annual terrifying event known as "lamb tails" occurred on February 15th. Dad kind of sprung it on us last minute (February 13th around 7:30pm, to be specific) but Michelle, Chris, and I were still able sever woolly appendages. All in all, it went pretty well. There weren't any hospital-worthy injuries, Chris developed a new technique for catching and passing horned lambs, Michelle was the champion of the bench (I tried holding lambs on the bench one time this year--then I fell off the bench because my legs couldn't reach the ground), and I didn't get killed. All around success!
Dad displaying his sorting skills.
Perfect little lambs in a pen!
Would someone PLEASE tell our father to stop buying and breeding horned rams?! They are a hazard! Though I must concede, the horns are a good defense against predators.
Chris taking a lovely lady to get her hooves and tail done.(Gotta get my tail done! Gotta get my hooves done! Gotta look good tonight! Cuz I'm going to the barn tonight!)
The end of the day, that time when you finally have the excuse to cuddle two lambs at once! How do you think they feel about it? They look conflicted...
The damage done: 78 tails.
The twins pose proudly, knowing their good deed shall not be undone!
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