Of course, I was home alone with four year old Joe. (Virtually everything like this happens when I'm alone at home) Even our vet was away for the day. So…. After much deliberation and calling around (Affirming Daisy would either have to wait a long while or I’d have to suck it up and go it alone) I grabbed Dan’s trusty pliers and headed back down to the barn.
It wasn’t hard to catch Daisy. She’s one of the friendliest of our sheep, equipped with handles (AKA horns) and a chowhound to boot. I waved some grain in front of her nose, closed the barn door, held on tight, and began to pull the things out. "Better than the maggots." I muttered, though each yank caused her to clunk her curved horns into my legs. I almost lost hold of her a few times, but really, it wasn’t half as big a drama as I expected. She bled a bit, but perked up when she realized she could eat once again. And newbie blogger that I am, I didn’t even get any pictures until after the fact!
When Dan gets home, we’ll catch her and double check to make sure there aren’t any quills broken off in her mouth.
Here’s something we ran across while goodsearching “porcupine” and “sheep”:
What do you get when you cross a sheep and a porcupine?
Nobody knows, but whatever it is, it knits its own sweaters.