Caruso’s a ram. He’s basically a nice guy, too. I can scratch him under his chin and he’ll almost purr.

He’s a Jacob sheep ram. That means he won’t ever get much larger than 225#. Jacob sheep are a smaller breed.
Still, you don’t want to be there when Caruso gets mad.
Tonight he got mad.
A break in the fence allowed all of his smaller horned buddies to get out into the ewe’s pasture. Those are his ewes, donchaknow!
I climbed into Caruso’s pen and caught him and scratched him under his chin while Jeanette and Elena repaired the fence. Once the fence was repaired, I hopped over it to catch the errant rams that belonged in with Caruso (once breeding season’s over and the ewes are removed, the rams settle down and play nice together).
We caught ‘em and one by one I hefted ‘em up and over the fence. The last boy was the biggest and had the largest rack, so I was being extra careful… I had strained my back about three weeks ago and it was just starting to feel good again and didn’t want to strain myself or get caught in the face with one of those horns. I had him over the top of the fence and was about to set him down when Caruso nailed the fence at a full tilt. He caught me full across the belly and, um, more sensitive parts of my anatomy.
I dropped the boy rather unceremoniously and caught my breath quickly, thinking I was fine.
Boy do I hurt now.
Don’t walk, run. Or better yet, stand your ground – if you’ve got a solid 2×4 handy!
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