#because with how this dog acts at the fenceline I DO NOT want to have my horse run into him outside of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokilickedme · 3 years ago

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Somebody help me chill, this is insane.

(under the cut because long and also pretty traumatic, for me at least)

Crazy neighbor, remember her? Her son destroyed a piece of equipment we had attached to one of our trees at the fenceline last week, she denied it and called us insane liars - that’s the most recent craziness in the ongoing saga of the neighbor from hell. I was sitting here reading my dash tonight and happened to glance over at the monitor for the surveillance camera husband got me the other day to watch that exact spot (where the equipment was smashed) and guess who I see bent over looking through the fence peering very closely at that exact spot? Neighbor’s equally insane son, who we know did the actual dirty work. And I, stupid like I am, took a screenshot of him and then immediately jumped up and ran outside in the dark in my pajamas (nearly 9pm, pitch black, their porch light is off because obviously they’re doing something they don’t want to be seen doing) and I ask “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

This lunatic immediately starts SCREAMING at me - I mean top of his lungs SCREAMING abusive threats, calling me a stupid psycho whore bitch, yelling at me to get my ass back in my house and generally just acting completely off his rocker unhinged nuts - and then his mother comes out and comes over to the fence and gets in my face while I’m just standing there and tells me to mind my own business. I say I am minding my business, I saw him looking through the fence at my property right where we had vandalism happen last week so I came out to find out why he’s interested in my property. She laughed in my face and said “No he wasn’t, he was standing right here looking at his phone like this” and she does this little pantomine of someone looking at their phone, which is funny because she wasn’t out there when he was doing it and there are no windows on that side of her house at all. I ignored her and asked “What are you looking for?” He kept screaming incoherent animal noises and insults from behind her so I asked again, “What are you looking for?” And that crazy woman grinned at me and said “We’re just looking to see what kind of new devices you’ve installed!”

OMG. She didn’t even take a breath in between lying and then contradicting her own lie. And she’s grinning smugly at me the entire time, gesturing around pointing at our property cams and mosquito light (it flashes and apparently she thinks it’s watching her) and my bedroom window - which means she’s been snooping. There is a cam sitting in my windowsill, aimed at the spot where the device was smashed. Every bit of this equipment is on our property, some of it behind a privacy fence. I tell her it’s none of her business what kind of devices we’ve got on our property, but she just yammers over me, and of course numbskull is still ranting like a psycho behind her, screaming at me to mind my own business and get back in my house and leave them alone. At this point he’s pulled out his phone and shoved it over her shoulder toward my face and is recording me, which is just...fucking hilarious...because I’m literally doing nothing but standing there in shock and awe at how nuts these people are, and he’s still screaming abusive curses and names at me while he’s recording.

Anyway, for about 4.5 minutes we stood there with them shouting over me (I know the exact time because it was later discovered that our doorbell cam recorded audio of the entire event) and a little ways into it he screams “I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

At this point psycho woman finally turns around and says “Addison Case!” and pushes him back. He lunges at me and she tells him to go call the police (??what?? I mean...I wish he had...my phone was in my hand frozen solid, locked up because of the glitchy surveillance app I had to install to see the camera, or else I would have called them myself - but my god they really thought I was the one the cops needed to come for??). Meanwhile I’m just standing there on my own property in the dark in my pajamas, all 5 feet and 120 lbs of me, while this rabid animal - he’s a 21 year old college boy - is lunging at me and screaming nonstop, calling me a fucking whore bitch loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear it while his phone’s camera light is in my face blinding me. Crazy lady smiles that smug shit eating grin of hers and tells me to get back in my house, leave her alone, and move the hell away so she can live in peace.

Wow. Just...holy shit.

This is the person who has allowed her dog to attack my very small 8 year old son on our property and send him to the hospital with injuries last year, then attempt to attack him again 2 weeks ago (he is now 9 at the time of the second attack) - again on our own property (in our back yard this time, in our front yard the first time), has allowed her dogs (multiple) to bark all night long and keep us awake (she leaves them outside and then goes away for the weekend and they bark the entire time she’s gone), then she had her crazy violent son destroy the BarkBox we put in our tree on our side of the fence last week (we put it up as a humane way to get the barking to stop without having to listen to her call us insane liars every time we complain about it). Yet...she kept repeating over and over and over for us to leave her alone and stop harassing her.

All I could even do was stand there shaking my head. It was surreal. And frustrating, because they wouldn’t even let me get a word out without screaming over me, and she was doing that infuriating Karen thing where they shove their hand at your face and grin smugly while they’re telling you what you better do or they’ll call someone to make you.

I actually started laughing, it was so ludicrous. She’s committed all those vile offenses against us and we’re the ones that need to leave her alone. We’ve had to file four police reports against her and we’re the ones that are making her life miserable. I just can’t stop thinking about that Liar Liar movie where the repeat offender keeps calling his lawyer to complain that the cops won’t stop arresting him and the lawyer finally yells THEN STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE!!

It’s just like that. My god.

SO -

She tells him to call the police again, and this limp dick shoves that phone light right up to my face and says “You think she’s worth calling the cops over? Look at her, she don’t look worth it to me.” And bitch starts laughing. My god, these people are subhuman, I swear. I’ve never seen anyone act like this in my life, over a person doing literally nothing to them.

So she finally orders her rabid son (who is just about foaming at the mouth, I swear he’s making these barking animal noises at me, it’s weird as hell) into the house and they walk away, with him still ranting like a madman until the door closes behind them. I immediately go inside my own house and call my husband, who was way out at the back of our property in our camper (he self quarantines each day after work out there to protect us because there have been a lot of covid cases at his workplace) and he didn’t know anything was happening. He immediately runs up to the house and I tell him I caught neighbor’s thug son messing around at our fence and that when I went out he threatened to kill me.

Tom grabs something - I don’t even know what it was, I think it was this piece of board that was sitting by the door, we’ve done a shelving project recently and a couple of leftover pieces have been there for a few days - and he stalks outside toward neighbor’s house. I hear him yell COME OUT HERE BOY!!! and I stg you guys, if I wasn’t on the phone calling 911 I might have thought about getting naked right there and then because damn.

So anyway, let’s not go there. This is serious by god lol (look for this to show up in a fic soon though because material like this doesn’t get handed to you for free every day).

I call 911 and say the neighbor’s son just threatened my life and for them to come quick because he’s still over there but I know he’s going to leave any second (this is his mom’s M.O, the two times the police have tried to go talk to her she gets in her car and leaves before they can get from my house to hers, and I know he’ll do the same because COWARDS). Tom comes back and says the little pussywillow wouldn’t come out of the house. He’s breathing fire, you guys. Pure fucking fire. I tell 911 to get somebody out quick before the kid leaves, and just about 2 minutes after I hang up he does just that - we see him blast past our house in his truck and he’s gone, and then the police arrive about 3 minutes after. I’m so mad I can’t see straight. If they’d been able to see him in the state he was in, they’d have arrested him on sight.

Two squad cars (big SUV’s) pull up and block her driveway with full lights flashing, which makes me laugh because suddenly we’ve got neighbors coming outside to see what’s going on. I meet the officers outside, and the crazy bitch next door does the same, yelling “Hello Officer!” and waving to them as they’re coming up to my porch.

They talk to me and Tom for a long time, I tell them everything that happened, they interview Big (he and Little were inside the open door and heard it all), we fill out our statements and talk with them more until one officer goes next door to talk to neighbor. We can hear her dripping her fake sugar and spice while they’re talking on her porch and my husband loses his shit - he heads toward her house and yells “We got the entire thing on recording, don’t even try to lie! Your kid, threatening to kill my wife?!?” (he’s referring to the camera in my bedroom window, which actually only recorded about 2 minutes because I don’t have it set up correctly yet, but they don’t know that). The officer yells at him to get back, which, yeah - he shouldn’t have done that, but for god’s sake the woman’s peckerhead son just literally threatened murder on a member of his family, this is the final fucking straw and he’s mad. And as he’s coming back across the yard the officer that stayed with me points at our new doorbell camera, just freshly installed as of about two weeks ago, and asks if it’s on. We haven’t even really figured out how to use it yet, but yes, as far as we know it’s on. The incident happened around the side of the house, but the doorbell records audio.

God bless technology.

I invite the officer inside the house and Tom gets his phone, pulls up the app for the doorbell, and starts skipping through the recording looking for the right timestamp. Up till this point all they have is me saying the guy screamed a lot of abusive profanities at me and threatened to tear my head off, and they’re taking me serious but probably not that serious, you know? Neighbors fight all the time, wars start over barking dogs, things get exaggerated, we’ve all seen the TV dramas.

Until Tom finds the segment on the footage and starts playing it to them on his phone. It’s kind of quiet because we were a good distance away, but you can hear the guy screaming just like I said he was. The officer asks if we have a speaker we can play it through so he can hear the words more clearly, because he needs proof of threat and that’s entirely in the words.

You guys, I’m tellin’ ya, sometimes you get a chance to fucking SHINE. My husband is a musician and this cop is asking him if he’s got a good speaker. So within minutes Tom’s got this huge venue-style amplifier designed for broadcasting music to the back wall of a freaking stadium pulled out into the livingroom and he’s hooking his phone up to it, and then he hits play and the other officer comes back from next door to join us and I can tell by the annoyed look on his face that neighbor bitch has likely charmed him and shed a plethora of persecuted tears and spewed her lies about how we’ve been harassing her forEVER and I think for a second that it’s a total loss now, he’s made his mind up in her favor.

And then...away we go. Tom cranks the volume on the speaker and they both lean in to listen closely.

Just about a minute into the recording they have their proof - thugnuts screaming I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!

Both officers nod, close their notebooks, and the second officer makes a phonecall while the first one turns to me and says “That’s terroristic threatening and it’s a class C felony. You’re going to need to go to the PA’s office with all the reports you’ve filed against them so far and all your evidence from tonight including that recording and hand it all to them. They’re likely going to issue a no-contact so that he can’t interact with you ever again.”

This is a victory, but it’s just the first step, and I feel sickeningly disheartened that it’s all in my lap to do everything. I want them to go demand his whereabouts from his mother and just go get his ass and haul him in. But no, I have a ton of legwork to do now because these horrible people won’t fucking stop.

After several more minutes of me asking questions about what exactly we need to do and where we need to go, etc etc (I’m competent but I’m also fucking rattled, someone threatened to kill me tonight and I’m blanking hard on the instructions he’s giving me) they finally wrap it up and leave. They’ve been in my house for a half hour waiting for me to finish filling out the report (I had to ask for more paper because honey I’m getting ALL the details in there) and I can just imagine how freaked out neighbor is when she sees what time they finally move their cars from in front of her driveway.

And now I’m coming down from the weird calm that I had through the entire event, and my heart feels like it’s going to EXPLODE. I had heart surgery two months ago, do I need this?? The pathetic part is that I know now just how stupid those people are, and I know this won’t be the end from their side by any means. We’ll start finding more stuff broken, or he’ll start climbing over the fence back at the back of the property to steal stuff from husband’s tool shed, or my tires will get slashed. These people are that dumb and hateful, they proved it tonight. He said if we had animals he would kill them, and then he made the same threat against me. How stupid does a person have to be to stand there with his phone out recording himself ranting and making threats against a woman standing in her own yard in her pajamas? Big tough man there. And his mama grinning at me the whole time, telling me I’m crazy and she’s concerned for her own safety because of me, while her son is standing right behind her threatening my life.

I’m just...my god, I don’t even know what to think. I thought people only acted like this in TV dramas, seriously. I’ve seen some shit in my life but this particular brand of stupid has up till now evaded me, but now it’s been in my face and I’m sort of in shock.

I don’t like guns. At ALL. Tom has always had at least one hidden carefully away, safely locked up away from the house, but now there are two inside my house in immediate grabbing range. He insisted that I let him show me how to use them. Rules were laid down for the boys - never touch, never, don’t even get close to them - and now there is a box of shotgun shells on my fireplace mantel and a singleshot rifle by the door. I hate this so damn much.

Don’t pick it up unless you’re ready to use it, he told me. Without even thinking, I said back, “If I touch it it’s getting used.”

I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

My god. I told the cops that the drug lord that lived over there four years ago was a better neighbor than this woman. They didn’t even laugh.

I guess they’re right, now that I think about it...it isn’t funny.

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gravelgirty · 7 years ago

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There is No Quiet Night in the Rainy Season: A Hogan’s Heroes fanfic

Part 1 of Tape and Needle and Scissors and String And...

Part 2: Irish Rejected Potatoes...

Part 3: Above My Pay Grade...

Part 4:

Deep in the Germans’ mess hall—a place LeBeau was grudgingly willing to consign as one of the less-well-thought-out circles of hell—there was a lot of noise. You could almost hear it over the artillery-grade raindrops smashing into the galvanized tin roof.

Banging. Rattling. Thumping. Muffled cursing.

“Every time we let those prisoners into the kitchen, this happens. Every time!”

The grumbler was the cook—He was from a very poor part of Germany. So poor, in fact, that he owned the dubious ability of being able to identify every form of edible vegetation in the forest. He’d grown up next to one of the more pretentious parks under the Kaiser, and the Kaiser had a habit of throwing entire families in prison if a single member trespassed on his territory.

(And as Hans knew, urinating across the fenceline into the hunting preserve counted as an encroachment. He still missed the Donners…even if they had been an indispensable part of WWI’s civil engineering projects…)

Hans was treasured and feared in equal measure. There was always a ratio of soldiers that didn’t know which part of the potato plant to peel. But Hans’ skills with meat were between ‘doesn’t bear thinking about’ and ‘unmitigated disaster’.

He grumbled in his drafty old kitchen. He puffed and muttered and banged things back and forth. That little Frenchman and his foreign ways! How dare he touch his tools of trade? Was there no respect in the profession between equals? For Hans considered LeBeau his counterpart to the prisoners—forced to make do with the miserable ingredients, and serve them up to a sourly ungrateful populace.

“Unbelievable!” He swore as he found another exhibit for offense—the Frenchman had sharpened all of his knives! They hung gleaming on their bar—and sorted according to size! How hard could it be to put things back exactly as they had been?

There was nothing for it. Hans wearily sat down and started on the largest cleaver—it was an excellent beast for skinning vegetable marrows or taking the rinds of very tough turnips. But too sharp by half. With his lips set, he started a long, boring campaign of running the bladed edge across the cutting board.

- - -

The remainder of the day—if “day” meant weather that the Black Forest would call unfit for mushrooms—was spent with the Stalag in a consensual state of misery.

Hogan split his men and put them in short teams—half to transfer the latrine to a spot that was far too close to Barracks noses for comfort—and the other half underground hastily shoring up, blocking up, and doing whatever they could to fill up what had once been a comfortable and useful section of tunnel. When it looked like it was time for a break, he made them switch.

It was back-breaking, grueling work but no-one complained. They all sensed urgency if not impending disaster.

Anyway, some idiot pointed out, it was at least quieter outside than it was inside. The newer prisoners were starting to show signs of psychological breakdown--weeks of heavy cold raindrops on the roof could do that to anybody, but especially to men who had been three feet from the front lines less than two months ago.

The only exceptions to the workplan besides Hogan:

Baker, who had shaken off Klink’s hooch in record time and was now sleeping it off to a three-octave, one-man chorus with his uvula and soft palate. Wilson had the throat-drops waiting for when he woke up.

LeBeau, a man under fire, working frantically to produce enough hot caffeine to get the men through this dire period.

And Newkirk. The Brit hunkered dangerously close to LeBeau’s stirring-elbow, whip-stitching up a contraption at record speed. His earlier depression was gone as if it never existed; he was on a man with a mission, and he was cheerful. This would worry Schultz to see it, even if he wanted Newkirk to snap out of his mood as much as anyone else.

A happy, cheerful Newkirk was a Newkirk presented with a solvable challenge that would discomfit Germans. Even Cpl Fritz, the only man in the Stalag dumber than Klink, knew this.

Ill-feelings were running amuck and morale was AWOL for guards and prisoners alike.

The guards were sopping wet because ‘sideways’ was a perfectly normal direction for winter rains. They thought longingly of LeBeau’s patented, secret, imitation coffee and wondered if their lot would improve if they just took off their uniforms the second they returned to their own dank barracks and stood naked by the stove. They envied the wretched POWs, who hadn’t any reason to be outside other than roll call and latrine-digging, and they knew from long, long experience that the mud cladding the POWs was a wonderful insulation.

“Lucky swine.” Wolfe shouted over the rain.

“What??” Langenscheidt yelled.

“I said, Lucky swine!”

“I know you’re Langenscheidt!”

“That is not what I said!”

“What??”

“The swine! The swine!” Wolfe had no choice but to carry on--he was committed. “They’re no wetter than we are, and they don’t have rain falling on metal hats!”

“Eh?” Langensheidt looked over the edge to the prisoners below. “Hah! You know, they look like swine! At least they don’t have a tin roof on their head!” He laughed and rapped his sodden knuckles on his own helmet.

Wolfe gave up. he just wanted to live. He wasn’t sure what he had to live for, but anything was worth avoiding Hell, which might be what he was seeing in the mud right now.

---

The POWs were achy, sniffly, and sweating under their layer of this mud because this natural insulation wasn’t letting an atom of respiration out of their pores. They collectively wondered if a few well-placed holes drilled into their shoes would let the sop out from between their toes. They envied the bloody Germans, who could at least breathe inside their wool uniforms.

---

In the Kommandant’s office, Klink was writing a very stern note to his cigar-supplier. Contrary to all claims and the expensive installment, the humidor was worthless. He now needed a dehumidifier. This was the third in a series of such letters, which boiled down to the company thinking Klink was insane because everybody knew, Germany didn’t get that wet—where did he think he was, Podgorica? But Klink’s clerical talents had risen to the challenge--he couldn’t do anything about Hogan stealing his Cubans, but the complete lack of any decent tobacco could get him sent to the Russian Front if the wrong official came by.

Or Hochstetter. He didn’t need cigars--real or withheld--to send him to the Russian Front.

- - -

Hogan was in his office and trying to think of the fastest journey to Stage II of his plans. If he could get the latrine moved, it would be an effective if smelly temporary blind for their attempts to build a new tunnel. The guards had their own latrine—and loathed theirs.

And with good reason, he thought glumly. Rats loved the POW latrines—it was a straight shot between the back of the soldiers’ mess, and on the other side, a thick bramble thicket. The brush was only waist-high and not worth the effort of trying to escape through the cover—there was no human-worthy cover with that vegetable barbed wire.

That was alright for the non-human--or should we say, inhuman, infernal things that did use the brambles for camouflage and hideaways.

Like the creepy, pallid, humpbacked crickets that lurked in the dark and crawled at you with terrifying purpose when you weren’t looking. Or the toads, which looked like clods of earth with eyeballs. Nobody knew what those things were, but the guards and guard-dogs were terrified of them. Carter said they looked like the ‘lil’ hoppers’ back in Bullfrog, and if you ate one you’d be talking to gigantic furry lemon-yellow polka dots that whistled show tunes. Hogan had made it very clear that he was not allowed to test for comparison, and no, Newkirk, we aren’t putting it in the guards’ soup-pot. Yes, I am a spoil-sport. Part of the privilege of command.

The rats reigned over all these beasts, and ate them with relish. Perhaps a daily diet of poisonous toads explained their behavior--they didn’t act like the rattus of Hogan’s tough childhood. They didn’t act like any rats he’d ever heard of.

The latrines were horrible but they were the perfect place to hide and chew on one’s ill-gotten contraband or secret stash of chocolate, gum, and the home-made raisin moonshine that nobody would ever admit to making but somehow, the stuff just kept…happening. And since the brambles still had tons of weathered fruit still hanging on to the vine from summer, the damned vermin had the best living arrangements of every living thing in the Stalag—possible exception being Oscar and Heidi’s dogs, who had the closest thing to red carpet treatment.

It was very ironic that the superior supply lines of Stalag XIII was nurturing these foul creatures. Klink had his excellent black market-skimming campaign going on that shorted everybody but himself (and Hogan would give one of Klink’s stolen cigars to learn his secret), but Hogan also had his Top-Notch smuggling and supply lines over and under the Stalag thanks to willing POWs and good old Oscar and Heidi. Between all these avenues sang opportunity for the bold rodent that saw anything unguarded and un-poisoned. There was also the third underground grocery store on part of the guards--willing to sell out either Klink or Hogan’s pass of chocolate or cheese if they got their own cut.

The guards’ latrines weren’t all that charming, but they were well-built and clean and built over one of the original concrete foundations. The POWs had a packed-earth foundation topped with old pallets. It was leaky and drafty and cold even in the dead of summer. In the drought season they had to hose it down in case it would burst into flames. It was the best place to go for contraband deals because the roof was airtight. The rats found easier pickings with the POWs than the guards. At least, Newkirk said snidely, the rats the POWs caught had more meat on their bones.

Hogan sipped his coffee and continued to think. Outside LeBeau was struggling to wring another miracle out of rations, potable water, and if you believed his rants, cinnamon-sprinkled sawdust. For some reason he was angry that he couldn’t get all of Carter’s hot peppers.

Hogan was also getting down because the men were supplying him with increasingly dismaying reports on the soil. Who would have thought any amount of rainfall would get through that brick-hard dirt? They needed dry earth to dig if they all didn’t want to die, and dry earth was so far as concept as realistic as glass slippers and talking wolves.

And…Germany was the country for both…

He glared at the tiny bookshelf nailed to the wall. GRIMM’S FAIRY TALES sat next to his mothy reading collection—a surprise birthday present from Schultz. The sergeant had made a comment about idle time was better spent reading than ‘naughty doings’. Hogan still didn’t know what to give him back for thoughtful revenge.

BANG-BANG.

Hogan jumped slightly and beat Carter to the door before the young man could filthy up his doorknob. The pyrotech was a walking lump of mud but at least one could see his eyes and mouth.

“What is it, Carter?”

“Aw, how’d you know it was me?” Carter pouted. Behind him Newkirk and LeBeau were snickering in that fond, cruel way good mates had, even as they hovered protectively over the stove and stitching.

“You left your hat on, Carter.” Hogan pointed out the obvious. “That makes the shape of your head a little distinctive.”

“Oh. Aw, shoot. Well, at least it kept me from hearin’ the rain. Honestly, its a lot quieter outside--”

“What is it?”

“Oh. The boys wanted you to know we’ve got as far as we can for the day. The walls of the pit are startin’ to, uh…jellify.”

“’Jellify?’” Hogan repeated. Behind Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau imitated this, and both looked as confused as Hogan felt.

“Yeah, they jiggle when you slap ‘em.” Carter nodded, which sent a good chunk of the Stalag’s terra firma hit the ground with a splat-splat. “Like pipeclay.”

“Pipeclay?”

Newkirk sucked in his breath with the force of his mother’s Electrolux vacuum. “Gov! Get ‘em out if that’s the case! Pipeclay’s not stable! The walls’ll be falling in and they’ll be in the bottom--!”

“You heard him, move!” Hogan barked.

Shaken, Newkirk watched them vanish into thin air. Only Hogan’s missing jacket and a trail of mud proved they ever existed. He risked looking at LeBeau. He was willing to bet they were both the same shade of pale. Over their heads, the relentless rain hammered and hammered and hammered...

“Mon d--.” LeBeau murmured. “Now what will we do? The Colonel needs this dug out.”

“Oh, uh…he’ll think of summat.” Newkirk rucked in as much optimism as he could manage, consider the circumstances. “The lads’ll need a lot of something hot to drink. Do you think you have enough?”

LeBeau grimaced. “Perhaps. I could do miracles with another pot, but I don’t think that old mushroom in the mess hall will let me borrow one for a while.”

“Did you sharpen his knives again? Shame on you.”

“The greater shame is to Krupp Steel!”

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll get you one. I’ll just pop--“ Newkirk realized what he was saying and closed his eyes. “Bloody ‘ell. We’re all gunna go stir-crazy, aren’t we? What’s that word Carter uses…cabin fever?”

“Yes.” LeBeau assured him with deadly calm. “And this fever, I do not have soup for.”

#Tape and Needle and Scissors and String And...#Hogan's Heroes #There is No Quiet Night

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josephkitchen0 · 7 years ago

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Are Rams Dangerous? Not With Proper Management.

By Laurie Ball-Gisch, The Lavender Fleece – Many people who are interested in keeping sheep hesitate because they have heard that rams are dangerous and hard to keep. So, are rams dangerous? Not if you follow these suggestions.

Ram Behavior

Rams, like all intact male breeding animals, will act-well, rammish—especially during the rut season. This is normal and natural and the way it should be. Rams often don’t get the respect they deserve, but their bad reputations are usually due to human mismanagement.

A ram can be an amazing animal to behold. Nothing catches the eye of visitors better than a well-horned, muscular and beautifully fleeced ram.

Our rams—for the most part—are very interested in what humans are doing. From birth on, rams tend to be friendlier than ewes. Most of our rams come eagerly to the fenceline to have their ears scratched or their chin rubbed. We do not make pets of our rams, but we enjoy their personalities and their handsome presence on our farm. Several of our rams are very protective and they will chase the dogs out of the field, stomping their feet and putting down their heads to protect the other sheep. Obviously, we really like our rams, because we have seven at this time and only 27 ewes!

Rams vs. Artificial Insemination

With the advent of artificial insemination, the mature ram is becoming harder to find on America’s sheep farms. Also, many people will use a ram lamb in the fall and send him to slaughter after the breeding season, so one may never see the full potential of a mature ram line.

Although we buy sheep of AI breedings from the best bloodlines in Iceland, we choose not to do AI ourselves on our farm. To do traditional AI would be too costly with our small group of ewes. A new vaginal AI procedure would make it possible to do the procedure ourselves, but buying and shipping a container of semen from Iceland would be too cost prohibitive for us. And to be honest, I cannot fathom myself interfering with Mother Nature. I personally like to let nature “be” and that means the old-fashioned coupling of a ram with his ewes.

Having the rams here on our farm and using them for several seasons allows us to know the personality of the ram, to evaluate his fleece and conformation for ourselves, rather than trusting somebody else’s opinion of a ram.

In addition, our emphasis here is not on “meat production first.” Meat conformation is the primary focus in Iceland, and so the resulting lambs may produce “better” carcasses, but that is not what is of primary interest to me when raising sheep.

Some ram and ewe combinations can consistently produce lambs superior to either of their parents. But some ram and ewe breedings will be problematic for a variety of reasons. There is, of course, always the mysterious potential of those dominant and recessive genes.

There are also some less obvious things that I learned the hard way that include noting the size of a ram’s forehead.

A ram that has a wide forehead can produce lambs with large foreheads that, regardless of whether or not horn buds are involved, can be problematic for some ewes’ deliverance.

Using a long-bodied, long-legged ram on a short-bodied ewe can cause the lambs to become entangled; they can have problems getting into a positive birth position and the resulting lambing time can be a nightmare for both the ewe and the shepherd.

Noting these problems and not rebreeding that same combination in the future would be advised.

Icelandic ram, scenting

Rental Rams Many times, I’ve had buyers who want to purchase only ewes. They want to save themselves the expense and work of keeping their own rams. They think they can “rent” a ram and bring him back to us or bring the ewes back to us for the breeding season. I know that this is a common practice for some breeders, but I will not do this on our farm. Because we are producing breeding stock, it is of utmost importance to us to keep our flock healthy. So we are very choosy now about which farms we bring in animals from, and we will not bring sheep back to our farm once they leave. This is also why I choose not to exhibit our sheep.

Since rams are an integral part of a breeding program, it is important that new breeders practice sound ram management techniques. Rams must be respected for the breeding animals that they are, but there is no reason to be afraid of rams. While no ram should ever be 100% trusted—meaning never turn your back on a ram—for most of the year rams are easy keepers. But no matter how friendly and easygoing they are, always know where your rams are when you are working in their pastures/paddocks.

For those who are new to handling breeding stock, I have put together some suggestions for ram management based on our experiences here at our farm and from talking with other breeders.

Suggestion #1: Companions

Buy two male animals—either two rams or one ram and a companion ram that has been wethered (neutered).

It is imperative that you never make a pet of an intact ram lamb. Are rams dangerous at this age? No, ram lambs tend to be very curious and friendly and it’s difficult to resist them. I have had ram lambs that at a few days old will seek out my companionship and tug on my pant leg for attention. It’s very tempting to pet these lovely and friendly lambs. But it is imperative that you remember that most aggressive rams are created by their owners.

That ram lamb who sees you as his friend will one day see you as a foe and a rival for his ewe group. The worst scenario for creating mean rams seems to be when people bring home one ram lamb and one or two ewe lambs and keep them together. New owners, besotted by these lovely sheep, (and usually the ram lambs tend to be friendlier than the ewe lambs) naturally want to spend time with them. But by sheep breeding season, that sweet friendly ram lamb can turn aggressive and dangerous. Maybe not so much in his first year, but perhaps dangerously so by the time he is a yearling.

I do believe that aggression in rams can be a heritable trait, however, this won’t be evident until the ram has reached maturity.

Keep rams with wethers or other rams.

Suggestion #2: Isolate

This relates to suggestion #1—house your rams separately from the ewes except during sheep breeding season.

This way you will be able to enjoy your ewes and lambs freely, without having to watch your back for fear of a ram charging you. You don’t want to find out the answer to “are rams dangerous?” the hard way. You can let your children and visitors into the barnyard or field without fear of them being injured by a ram. And since I strongly recommend rams live in separate areas, you should have a companion for your ram. Sheep are flock animals, and should never be left alone.

During the summer months, some farms will let the rams run with the ewes and lambs for grazing. Since summer is not a sheep breeding season this management style may work for some. We still choose to keep our ewes and lambs separated from our rams.

The day that you do introduce rams to their ewe groups, be extremely cautious. Are rams dangerous at this stage? Absolutely. A ram that was benign in the bachelor paddock can suddenly turn very aggressive as soon as he is near his ewes. We have had “gentle” rams come straight at us upon moving them into a ewe group. This sudden exposure to the females makes the normally mild ram potentially very dangerous. Yup, this scenario will give you pretty fast answer to: are rams dangerous?

We always make sure we have extra help the day we put our breeding groups together. We usually have at least two of us moving the rams around and having extra help with gates, etc. is even better.

Suggestion #3: Fences

Make sure your ram fences are strong and escape proof. Are rams dangerous when they are trying to get to ewes? Yes, they are.

Many “unplanned” lambs have resulted from rams who have jumped sheep fencing or battered down gates that were not strong enough to contain them. The longer you wait to put your rams in with the ewes, the more this will become an issue.

One breeder, whose rams are separated from the ewe flock by a 25-acre parcel of land, reported a ram lamb that managed to jump two fences twice to get into the ewes’ pasture.

Rams can be amazing escape artists and extremely aggressive when it is sheep breeding season. Icelandic sheep are seasonal breeders, but that season can vary depending upon the climate they are in.

I have heard of one breeder who had a surprise Icelandic lamb born in January, which means the ewe “cycled” and was bred accidentally in early September (Strong suggestion: remove and separate all ram lambs from the ewe flock by early August).

The ewes will continue to cycle until bred throughout the winter months. So even after rams are removed from the ewes, if a ewe did not “catch,” and if your fences are not escape-proof, you may end up with ram(s) loose and where you don’t want them.

Suggestion #4: Segregate

If you are using two or more rams, do not put the rams with their ewe groups in adjoining pastures where they can “touch” each other at the fence line or gate.

Are rams dangerous to themselves and other rams? Rams have, in fact, battered each other through fences and gates, and have been killed this way. If they are going to be in adjoining areas, create a “dead space” between them with a double fencing system. For instance, we use portable, heavy gauge 16′ stock panels that are 52″ high and create a second fence line of at least 4′ of space anywhere that there will be two ram groups located in adjoining pastures. These heavy-duty panels are working well for us and are portable and can be easily moved around the farm throughout the season for different uses.

Creating visual barriers with tarps or boards so that rams cannot see each other also helps.

In spite of one’s best attempts at keeping rams safe from each other, rams can and will hurt themselves or each other. One breeder found a ram lamb dead of a broken neck on the other side of a 52″ woven wire fence; he had climbed/or jumped over to get to the ewes on the other side and broke his neck in the landing.

Suggestion #5: Husbandry

Are rams dangerous sometimes? Yes, but again, only with mismanagement. Rams need care like any other livestock on your farm.

It’s easy to focus all the attention of the ewes and lambs and neglect the rams. Be sure they get their yearly vaccinations for CD/T (The germs Clostridium perfringens types C & D-enterotoxemia-and C. tetani-Tetanus).

Trim their hooves regularly and make sure they are dewormed appropriately for your area. I hear over and over that shepherds will feed their rams the worse hay thinking the best feed should go to the ewes. This may be true, but if you want your rams to cover a lot of ewes, be sure your rams are in top condition.

Even if they only have a few ewes to service, rams will wear themselves thin pacing and keeping vigil over their flock. If your rams are shorn in the fall and the weather turns quite cold, they will need extra supplemental feed and protein to maintain condition.

Our sheep all have access to free choice minerals and kelp, but during the fall and winter I put out supplemental mineral/protein blocks and the sheep do consume them.

Well-kept yearling Icelandic ram (shorn).

Suggestion #6: Confine

Be careful when putting rams back together. Are rams dangerous at this stage? They can be.

When reintroducing rams to each other, we have a small creep/pen type area in a barn that is just big enough for them to stand up and turn around. We leave them locked in together for around 36-48 hours so that they can get used to each others’ smells. They will want to “wrestle” and headbutt each other as they re-establish the hierarchy. Keeping them in tight quarters prevents them from backing up to get a “full head of steam” and really being able to hit each other hard.

We restrict their food and water for the last 12 hours so that by the time we let them out they are mostly interested in eating and drinking, rather than fighting.

Another trick we use is to spray their noses and genitals with an old men’s cologne to confuse their sense of smell (or you can rub Vick’s on their nostrils). This will help mask the smell of the ewes they were recently with. We laugh at this time of the year because the smell permeating from the ram barn is like a bar—all that nasty cologne; the only thing missing is the cigar smoke and the whiskey!

Before they are released from the “lock up” you can spread some old tires around their ground area so they can’t get up a full “run” at each other. Deep snow is also helpful in slowing down their runs at each other, but we can’t always count on snow to be available.

Also, time their release from their tight enclosure to evening, when it is almost dark.

It is best to put all rams and wethers together at the same time after sheep breeding season to save yourself having to do several small groupings and reintroductions, and to prevent deaths.

One breeder made the mistake of putting a ram lamb that had been with a couple of ewes into a pasture with his smaller intact twin and two wethered ram lambs who had not been with ewes. She turned her back to move some other sheep around and when she turned around five minutes later she found that ram dead of a broken neck and the three supposedly “benign” animals standing around him. Don’t ever underestimate the power of the testosterone, no matter what the size of the animals.

Even though our seven rams have been together (at this writing) for seven weeks, a couple of the rams are still trying to decide the hierarchy. My leader rams, who are of the most primitive genetics, tend to be the most aggressive with each other in trying to establish “head ram.” The ones who will usually fight the longest are those that are evenly sized. Usually, the smaller rams will defer leadership to the largest ram without putting up too much of a fight.

I do have one ram that acts as a peacemaker in the group. When two rams are running at each other, he will step between them, face his side to them and take the blow to prevent them from hurting each other. It’s quite amazing to watch him do this. Usually, after circling each other a few times, with him continuing to intervene, they will eventually give it up.

Suggestion #7: Caution

Always know where your rams are when you are working with them.

You can keep a big stick handy or a spray bottle mixed 50/50 with water and white vinegar to spray the eyes, should any ram decide to challenge you. You want your rams to respect and fear you and they should not be encouraged to come toward you. We do however, train our rams to corn, which helps us to catch and handle them.

I know one woman who has had ram lambs challenge her in the fall months. When this happens, she faces them squarely, grabs them by their horns as they come at her and then she throws them on their back; she sits on them to establish her dominance. They never challenge her again after she does this.

Suggestion #8: Matings

Segregate horned and polled matings.

Rams come either horned or polled or somewhere in between, in the form of “scurs.” We prefer horned sheep and since Icelandic sheep can be horned or polled, there is a lot of flexibility for personal preference.

We do suggest that if you have a mixture of horned and polled stock that you breed horned to horned and polled to polled. If you have a mixture it’s best to breed a horned ram to a polled ewe; it is not recommended to breed a polled ram to horned ewes. I do have several ewes that are polled or scurred but their sires were well-horned rams. In this case, I use my best-horned rams on these ewes hoping to produce well-horned ram lambs.

When bad horns are horns that will grow in too close to the face and become management problems. If this happens, horns must be monitored and sometimes cut back as they grow.

One of the problems with horns can be that occasionally a lamb will knock a horn off or break it. If this happens, spray the wound with a spray (like Blu-Kote) to prevent fly strike. If it is bleeding too much, you can use a blood-stop powder. Most horn injuries are fairly benign and heal over quickly.

If you use electrified netting (like ElectroNet), it can pose a problem for horned ram lambs in that they have been known to tangle their horns in the fencing and essentially hang themselves.

I have not seen any advantage of horns over polled rams in terms of their aggression towards each other. (Others may argue this point; some farms keep their polled rams separate from their horned rams).

When rams fight, they run front-on at each other, putting their foreheads down and “ramming.” Whether or not they are horned does not affect how badly they hurt each other, except that if they turn sideways they can poke an eye of another ram with a horn tip.

Final Suggestion

Never keep a mean ram. Disposition is a heritable trait.

So now you know. Are rams dangerous? Only if they aren’t managed properly.

What suggestions do you have for proper ram management?

Are Rams Dangerous? Not With Proper Management. was originally posted by All About Chickens

0 notes

xottzot · 7 years ago

Text

2017-11(NOV)-20th---Monday (& yesterday Sunday).

Sunday seemed exceptionally quiet for this hellhole. Unusually so, given all the shit and criminality going on for so long all around.

Then, in the late afternoon, as the day was winding down to, it was noticed that a group of the criminal kids of the criminals were 'camped out' sitting on the dirty hot bitumen in the school oval car park. Another couple of them were roaming about on pushbikes, no bicyle helmets of course (as always) despite it being the law. About 8-12 of them were sitting there. Previoulsy during the day they had been (as usual) wandering all on and across ON the roads including the toddlers in diapers and nothing else (at all). And they all never acknowledge that any road traffic exists. And if any traffic dares to object, they are liable to attack them.

A small white vehicle drove away from the area there at the oval. Inside driving it looked to be one of the many totally anonymous 'welfare'/departmental people who used to walk around the area and do patrols, the ones I term 'the Watchers' who slowly walk and lurk about carrying mobile phones and forever taking notes on them and transmitting/sending stuff, and who also have been SO active in doing everything they can to be slaves to the criminal aboriginal households acting as chauffeurs and taxi drivers to them and delivering andor transporting drunks and illegal drugs affected abo's at any times of the day andor night on any day of the week no matter how many 'people' lived in any given 'house' to overflowing.

The Watchers don't seem to be walking about these days it seems but are just relying upon doing quick flighty drive-by's to write down that 'everything is okay'.

Anyway, one of these vehicles slowly drove up from right near the Koongamia school (which of course is NOT open on a Sunday and is completely surrounded by tall black barbed wire fence).

The small crowd of abos stayed seated in the carpark whislt the vehicle came up out of the deep dip where the creek area is and it entered the carpark where they were sitting and they knew it was going to have to come very close, or for them to move, as any NORMAL person would, in driving by to get out of the carpark area but NONE of them moved at all and they just sat there. - This is typical behavior for these mindless criminal shits. Normally they do (and HAVE done so) it by sitting ON THE ROADS at any time of the day or night.

The vehicle had to drive at a snails pace and passed them, then it drove faster along the roads (but still slowly), past the Koongamia shops and away to slowly continue.

The group only THEN got up and dispersed, some going towards the school and others to the school out-buildings, and others roaming and ranging around on bicycles.

Dunno what happped. Any crime at the Koongamia school is their concern, as is trying to get anyone to accept exactly WHO is doing the crimes so constantly all the time. (do they think foreign invaders jump out of airplanes and parachute down? NOPE, the criminals are the very ones living just across the road from the school as always, and 'camping out' on school property.)

-----------------------------------------

Monday..........

False calm.

-----------------------------------------

In the criminals pedestrian walkway, there's an empty black pram just sitting abandoned there most probably of the criminals. Nobody will touch it except other criminals. All Normal people have long give up using the walkways for fear of criminals and being attacked. Only very brave or defiant (or ignorant) innocent people dare to rarely use the walkways

-----------------------------------------

I almost accidently drank some unopened 2-day out-of-date milk this morning from the fridge.

Maybe I should just leave it out on a street verge for wandering criminals to see and swill down? They wouldn't care less as they wander about full of illegal drugs, drugged-up and forever looking to do crime.

-----------------------------------------

BTW, the VERY criminal abo woman who had been recently wandering around carrying bags of ? upon herself whilst 'visiting from one abo house to another, well she got to stay again (at least for awhile) at the main abo criminal household it seems.

She's the one who is one of the VERY violent abo's. She currently has a tiny dog that trots aorund after her, of course completely not and never on a leash, and it upsets dogs in innocent peoples yards that they go around past as the abos forever wander about the streets going back and forth to the Koongamia shops, hanging aorund the shops, and just wandering all about.

It's as if she is a 'replacement' in hell for the insane screaming abo woman who roamed all about for years.

One house of the newly moved-in innocent residents (the one with a fence) has now gotten a dog that those residents allow to freely roam about and keep guard to protect them from all the criminal abo's and criminals. -- It didn't take long for them to realise to their despair how terrible this hellhole is, and so they got a dog. - Recently it's already kept away some abos from getting into their property fenceline anddor near their caravan parked inside their property behind the fence.

-----------------------------------------

SO FAR....there has been no overt criminal incidents going on about this hellhole. That is totally unheard of.

But the day is young, and the week is young......

It's council rubbish collecting day tomorrow to pick up and empty householders big green bins as well as the recycle bins. It usually triggers criminals before during and after. And even the bins themselves are always very likely to be targets of crime.

-----------------------------------------

My internet speed and connectivity is absolute shit as is the internet service itself. Most of the time it's totally non-existant.

-----------------------------------------

Closer to 10am.......I knew it was a flase calm......

From the 'main' abo criminal household, and across to Faguts criminal husehold, there is a constant going on of transferring of toddlers wearing only diapers and nothing else walking across the road, and they are being sherphered now and then by the abo very criminal kids who never go to any school.

This passes as 'normality'.

Soon enough they will all being their wandering all over the streets and all about the Koongamia shops area including inside it.

Then it's time for the older criminals to roam all about as they will have woken up.

-----------------------------------------

There has been no rain. Rain is no more. The NEWS is filled with stuff about Kalgoorlie in Western Australia and how bad a storm was for them and is still causing shit because of power-outs for many thousands.

-----------------------------------------

Poor dear Sam & Max are at this moment becoming restless and so I have to give them soemthing to eat and then take them safely outside for ablutions and guard them. And as always, they dash about and look for YOU dear Fliss. YOU know I have never trained them to do this. - But they are in total despair as well as I.

-----------------------------------------

I love you dear Fliss and want to be with you. -- Max is having a lot of trouble getting and staying asleep. Sam is also. Sam once again has been having nightmares in his sleep yet again. As have I as always. There's no 'noise' of the abo criminals at the moment as I type this and so dear Sam & Max are once more trying to sleep. - In great pain. Gong to try to lay down and rest. There will be shit going on later because there always is at this hellhole area as the criminals crawl out of their crypts and begin wandering/staggering all about. - I love you dear Fliss and so very much want to be with you. I really sincerely hope you are okay in your health in all concerns, the things that lead you to flee from here and broke us apart. I get no word or whisper or anything about you or from you.

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josephkitchen0 · 7 years ago

Text

Are Rams Dangerous? Not With Proper Management.

Ram Behavior

A ram can be an amazing animal to behold. Nothing catches the eye of visitors better than a well-horned, muscular and beautifully fleeced ram.

Rams vs. Artificial Insemination

There are also some less obvious things that I learned the hard way that include noting the size of a ram’s forehead.

A ram that has a wide forehead can produce lambs with large foreheads that, regardless of whether or not horn buds are involved, can be problematic for some ewes’ deliverance.

Noting these problems and not rebreeding that same combination in the future would be advised.

Icelandic ram, scenting

For those who are new to handling breeding stock, I have put together some suggestions for ram management based on our experiences here at our farm and from talking with other breeders.

Suggestion #1: Companions

Buy two male animals—either two rams or one ram and a companion ram that has been wethered (neutered).

I do believe that aggression in rams can be a heritable trait, however, this won’t be evident until the ram has reached maturity.

Keep rams with wethers or other rams.

Suggestion #2: Isolate

This relates to suggestion #1—house your rams separately from the ewes except during sheep breeding season.

We always make sure we have extra help the day we put our breeding groups together. We usually have at least two of us moving the rams around and having extra help with gates, etc. is even better.

Suggestion #3: Fences

Make sure your ram fences are strong and escape proof. Are rams dangerous when they are trying to get to ewes? Yes, they are.

One breeder, whose rams are separated from the ewe flock by a 25-acre parcel of land, reported a ram lamb that managed to jump two fences twice to get into the ewes’ pasture.

Rams can be amazing escape artists and extremely aggressive when it is sheep breeding season. Icelandic sheep are seasonal breeders, but that season can vary depending upon the climate they are in.

Suggestion #4: Segregate

If you are using two or more rams, do not put the rams with their ewe groups in adjoining pastures where they can “touch” each other at the fence line or gate.

Creating visual barriers with tarps or boards so that rams cannot see each other also helps.

Suggestion #5: Husbandry

Are rams dangerous sometimes? Yes, but again, only with mismanagement. Rams need care like any other livestock on your farm.

Our sheep all have access to free choice minerals and kelp, but during the fall and winter I put out supplemental mineral/protein blocks and the sheep do consume them.

Well-kept yearling Icelandic ram (shorn).

Suggestion #6: Confine

Be careful when putting rams back together. Are rams dangerous at this stage? They can be.

We restrict their food and water for the last 12 hours so that by the time we let them out they are mostly interested in eating and drinking, rather than fighting.

Also, time their release from their tight enclosure to evening, when it is almost dark.

It is best to put all rams and wethers together at the same time after sheep breeding season to save yourself having to do several small groupings and reintroductions, and to prevent deaths.

Suggestion #7: Caution

Always know where your rams are when you are working with them.

Suggestion #8: Matings

Segregate horned and polled matings.

When bad horns are horns that will grow in too close to the face and become management problems. If this happens, horns must be monitored and sometimes cut back as they grow.

If you use electrified netting (like ElectroNet), it can pose a problem for horned ram lambs in that they have been known to tangle their horns in the fencing and essentially hang themselves.

Final Suggestion

Never keep a mean ram. Disposition is a heritable trait.

So now you know. Are rams dangerous? Only if they aren’t managed properly.

What suggestions do you have for proper ram management?

Are Rams Dangerous? Not With Proper Management. was originally posted by All About Chickens

0 notes