Skip to content
I had a passion for Trebor, my Romney ram.
In the winter, we huddled together in the barn, enjoying the silence and enchantment of falling snow. Steam rose from Trebor’s thick lanolin-rich fleece while I sat on his back, scratched his ears and inhaled the fragrant, earthy aroma of wet wool, fresh straw and manure.
“Nature’s perfect perfume. I love it.”
I learned to groom horses (Achoo!), clean hooves (not for sissies), muck out stalls (a meditative task), help build fences—I also jumped over a few while being pursued by a ram less friendly than Trebor.
At two o’clock on a freezing spring morning, I helped my pet ewe, Molasses, deliver a breech lamb—an honor and a thrill.