Bye-Bye, Boys

These are our two rams, Izzie and Boots, before butchering

From Lambs to Rams

In April, our three lovable ewes each gave birth to twins. Two of them were boys, Izzy and Boots. They began as adorable baby sheep, but soon morphed into headbutting, cranky rams. When they began to headbutt us, we had had enough. We decided to fulfill their destiny and  butcher them.

The Decision

For the kids, this was not an easy choice. They had had high hopes of them becoming pedigree breeding stock. But the fact that only two of our seven ewes could be bred with them (and their headbutting habits) made butchering unavoidable. It just wasn’t worth it.

Our next thought was to schedule an appointment at Pete’s Country Meats (Loretto, TN), the butcher we used for these guys’ sire, Stan. The only problem is, it’s a three hour drive each way. But suddenly Dad had a brain wave. Why drive six hours when we could do it ourselves?

The kids had a zillion objections, but Dad answered each one, (Q. We don’t know how to butcher a sheep. A. We have friends that do. Q. Do we have to help? A. No, you only need two people. Etc, etc, etc), with a satisfactory result. We were going to butcher them ourselves.

warning! no sensitive stomachs beyond this point!

“Ram” Becomes “Lamb Leg”, “Shoulder Roast”, “Ground Lamb”

Dad called a friend, who was super excited to help. He hunts, and had cleaned many deer in his lifetime. We invited the whole family, and made it into a party.

On the Tuesday after Christmas, at ten o’clock in the morning, Dad pulled the trigger on Boots and the whole process began:

Dad drags Izzy away to be gutted
Dad drags Izzy away to be skinned, de-gutted and made into pieces of meat.
Dad tries his hand at skinning
First, they cut the skin off the dead sheep in one big piece.
Dad cuts the outer loin off the sheep.
Next, they cut pieces of meat off the carcass and tossed them in the cooler. (See bottom)
Slitting down the stomach to reveal the guts
After most of the meat was safe in the cooler, they cut the stomach open to access the guts. (See below)
The guts
The guts. (Need I say more?)
The meat in a cooler
Finally, they cut off any remaining meat and stowed it in the cooler, where it will rest and age for three days.

That pretty much says it all.

Warning! This post is not intended to educate on how to butcher a sheep. to humanely and correctly process a sheep, please seek the assistance of a professional hunter or butcher. thank you. the redeemed homestead staff

 

 

 

Goofy Gopher

This is Gopher

A Christmas Surprise

The kids have always wanted a dog, and they’ve been asking ever since we moved out to our farm. But so many things stood in the way: fencing, training, fears and so many other things. But when Mom and Dad saw an ad that some of our friends had posted about a litter of Aussie Shepherd-Scotch Collie pups, it seemed like a work of God. They lived fifteen minutes from the Ark Encounter, which we’ve wanted to revisit since we first went. They were also willing to let us stay at their house while we met the puppy and went to the Ark. Everyone thought it was an awesome Christmas present, and so a few days after we saw the ad, we were off to redeem our pup.This is Gopher

A Work of God

We had set our sights on the firstborn pup, a little guy named Gopher. At first, we thought about changing his name, but “Gopher” began to grow on us during our three-day stay in Kentucky. Some of the names we had been thinking about were Ransom, Kelev (the Hebrew word for dog, aka Caleb), Tal and Scout. The really cool thing is, the Hebrew word for ransom is Kopher, which is really close to Gopher! So, of course we had to keep the name.

Gopher’s Life on the Homestead

Nobody’s perfect, including Gopher. He barked all night on his first day home, leaving us bleary-eyed in the morning. But he’s a really good boy during the day. He knows to go to his bed when we tell him to, and he’s working on “sit.”  He loves to play tug of war with a homemade chewer and would follow us around everywhere if he could. Unfortunately, he does not get along with our two cats. Whenever he sees them he goes into a frenzy, grabs them and shakes them around. Dad is a bit pessimistic on the subject, saying that one day we’ll only have one cat around. The cats don’t help matters much, either. They love to get as close as possible, and often, we only just rescue them. If they do get caught, we take their side and try to rescue them as soon as possible. They help out with their claws, too. If nobody gets hurt, it’s kind of funny.