Taking sheep back to the farm on the M62 after a day in the Dales - Jo Thorp

Another busy week filled with markets, buying as fast as we’re selling and endlessly moving sheep here, there and everywhere.

My absolute favourite sale of the year never fails to put a smile on my face even if it leaves Paul with a slightly pained expression.

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The annual Bluefaced Leicester breed sale up in the beautiful market town of Hawes, situated at the head of Wensleydale, was yet again packed with some fantastic examples of the breed and some equally fantastic prices.

The entire day is always a good one, from the early morning drive up through the Dales, passing through the beautiful villages of Horton in Ribblesdale and Selside, to seeing the many familiar faces lining the ring and the warm hustle and bustle in the market cafe.

HawesHawes
Hawes

I love going from pen to pen, highlighting the possibles, chatting with the vendors and the buzz at ringside once the auctioneer starts selling. Of course we never come away empty handed and thankfully despite the prices reaching dizzying heights, this year was no exception.

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We secured our tup early in the sale so the pressure was off for the rest of the day. We soaked up the sunshine outside the cafe whilst putting the world to rights and stayed till dark and the auctioneers hammer fell silent. The drive home was a tired one but full of hope for our new tup.

We had a phone call from APHA, the Governments Animal and Plant health agency last week to investigate a report from a concerned passer by about a lamb with a broken leg that was left untreated.

There was no mention of the whereabouts this lamb was, but I guess if you’re flying along in the “fast lane” of the motorway keeping your full undivided attention on the road ahead, it’s perhaps difficult to be precise with the location.

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Whilst Paul maintained utmost calm and surprising patience throughout the phone call, I sat on the sofa marvelling at someone’s ability to diagnose a broken leg without even laying a single finger on the animal and of course flying along the motorway whilst keeping their eyes on the road ahead.

It was decided that the ailing lamb was probably one of John-William’s waif and strays, his beloved pet lambs that without his endless care and devotion, would most definitely not have made it this far.

They live in the croft by the house where they run freely in and out of the sheep shed and despite some not being perfect, there are no broken legs. They are of course all named by the little guy and bear his bright red mark on their backs.

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Amongst them are those that he nursed back to life, sat in front of the fire, wrapped in blankets. Roopie, Tonks, Pootle and Five legs, who really does have five legs, are all now thriving and enjoying their comfortable existence on our farm.

The foreign lady on the other end of the phone had no understanding of cade lambs, could not pretend to understand the misery of this year’s lambing time and had never met our little guy, but she was confident that there was no ill treatment and deemed a farm visit unnecessary and accepted our explanation.

Little did I know there were so many farming experts passing our place every day!

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