A rough day for dear Lexy
Alexander, affectionately known as Lexy, approached me yesterday & had the audacity to rub his horns on my leg. He’s a two year old black grey mouflon ram. He’s friendly, but this was out of character, & not okay. I firmly said no, raised his head, & then applied pressure to his chest just as I would with a horse & made him back up 3-4 paces. It’s a dominance activity. In a herd, animals only give way, or back up, to more powerful or respected herd members.
Lexy looked up at me with big brown sad eyes as I pet him & moved on to other chores. I’d been away last week & the day was busy, but something made me pause. I watched him amble off. Full bodied, the picture of health. I knew his eyelids were crimson red (FAMACHA score indicating he wasn’t battling barberpole) from a day earlier, so why was I feeling there was something wrong. He went to the gate & began rubbing his head on it. No aggression or banging, just rubbing & the clanging of a horn hitting metal once & a while. He stopped stock still & looked at me again. A hard look. What would turn out to be a ‘please see me’ look.
This is Lexy on the left as a yearling last summer. Big goofy Roman nose inherited from his sire Moses & very expressive eyes.
It’s one of the things I love most about working with animals. Without words to communicate, they require you to develop a sensitivity that is in stark contrast to our fast paced, highly mobile lives. I find this to be particularly true in shepherding.
Icelandic sheep are frighteningly stoic. Imagine a Viking warrior in sheep form. They hide their pain & discomfort extremely well. It takes a long time to earn their trust so it’s not uncommon to lose a sheep to a serious ailment without ever knowing they were sick. This primitive breed’s stoicism is a blessing & a curse. They are strong enough to endure many ailments that would take down a more domestically cultivated breed, but yet it requires their shepherdess to hone her ability to read them. A poker game played out in a pasture with wooly horned behemoths, who have had over a thousand years on an isolated island at the top of the world to hone their poker faces.
I walked over to the gate, began to inspect Lexy’s horns & then almost wretched. There are two words that will produce a massive shiver & instant revulsion in just about any shepherd in the world. Two words you hope never to utter, much less see. Fly strike. I’m fortunate to keep my sheep on pasture so they don’t return to a barn or any other place that may grow dirty or muddy & attract flies. I haven’t seen fly strike since I was 13 years old in western Colorado. A Suffolk lamb being raised for the county fair had been unlucky & gotten a long docking job. That combined with scours created the one time I ever saw fly strike. I’d truly hoped never to see it again.
Fly strike is when flies find a dirty or moist place on a sheep & lay eggs. Wool often serves to hide this until it’s too late. Those eggs turn into maggots. Maggots eat flesh while they develop. I hope that suffices. I can’t go any further. I’m sharing this because I know the panic that sets in when you see it. I felt that panic yesterday & I’m still queasy. Sometimes it helps if you’ve read someone else’s story when faced with overwhelming revulsion, but before going any further, I need to say this was a very mild case of fly strike. It can be FAR worse so if you find yourself in a worse situation then the one described- I recommend calling a vet as soon as possible.
Back to the gate & Lexy. With some rams their horns & head meet in such way that there is a tight crevice. I’ve had well over twenty rams & never had a problem, but an experienced shepherd told me that sunshine, rain, sunshine, rain as the humidity rises are key conditions for fly strike. I also have to say that I think we inadvertently created the cause. We keep horses as well & in the summer will sometimes put out the 16% performance horse protein blocks. I’d been away the previous week & it had rained hard. The block was in a bin that didn’t completely drain. If I’d been home, I would have noticed the water & dumped it out, but my teenage farm sitter didn’t see it.
The bin had been pushed into a corner of the fence behind some weeds, most likely by the horses before they left that pasture. The sheep were moved into this pasture without me seeing it. Yesterday, the same day I found Lexy, I found the remains of the protein block. It’s soft to begin with, but the rain had made the block into a disgusting soup (with molasses in it) that had attracted flies. Nothing could be seen on the surface, just brown mush, but when I dug my boot into it, maggots had been laid beneath the surface. I felt sick as I dumped it into a thick plastic bag, tied it tight & set it in the direct sun where no one could reach it. It would need to heat up for weeks before I dared open it. I thought it would be the worst part of my day. Ha, not by a long shot.
Lexy recuperating the day after.
Lexy’s poor head had hidden the little monster maggots the same way the disintegrated protein block had. They were completely hidden until I went looking. I panicked & felt 13 again. I’m going to tell you what I did, but also add what I would have done if I’d had all the right supplies. I will mention that 95% of the time I work to discover a natural solution, but fly strike is too much for me. I hate maggots & I love my ram. I’m going to use the safest chemicals possible (in this case Ivermectin) & I’m not going to hesitate.
Thankfully Lexy is a puppy dog who doesn’t even require tying. I got the clippers & sheared his head & around the ears as best I could. It’s tough with horns. The left horn crease is where the maggots are, but I’m going to treat both sides as best I can. I’d been warned that when you go after one location the maggots try to migrate to new space. I was relieved to find the skin on Lexy’s head firmly attached to bone. As gross as it sounds, maggots will burrow between bone & skin, so if you discover it too late the sheep’s skin just sloughs off. It’s horrific. Thankfully it appeared Lexy’s onset was very recent.
Begin by shearing away all wool, any dead skin etc. Then you need to remove the maggots & clean the skin. In my case this was a very small space. The crevice was less than a 1/2 inch wide & probably 2-3 inches long. In hindsight, I probably should have used iodine because it’s more gentle on the skin & heals better afterwards, but I knew hydrogen peroxide would kill the maggots & I had tunnel vision at the moment. I poured it all along both of Lexy’s horns. It foamed white on the left side & maggots began emerging. About 50-75 so it wasn’t overwhelming, but it was disgusting nonetheless. I put on gloves & used paper towel to dig down into the crevice behind the horn. Between the skull & horns isn’t an easy place to access & it’s imperative I get every last one or they can migrate & feed somewhere else.
Not exactly what I’d had planned that day, but I kept digging, depositing all maggots & paper towel into a plastic bag. You must either set it in the sun for weeks or burn the contents. Don’t overlook this part & accidentally let them live, or they’ll look for another host. I had moved all my other sheep away (after checking the horns on all my other mature rams).
Oh, Spring, when life was easy.. some of Lexy’s ram herd.
In a perfect world, I’d have had a can of Catron Screw Worm Aerosol Spray (it’s now on order, but like all livestock emergencies, what you need is always 3 days too late). This has been recommended to me as the best solution. If I could have applied that, I should have used a gentle iodine to clean the wound & Catron to kill the maggots & SWAT to keep flies away & bacitracin to aid healing (all explained below).
This protocol would probably have done it & I may not have gone forth with the other steps listed below, but then again, I was panicked & may have gone with the kitchen sink approach regardless. I’m sharing my experience, nothing more, & will update on its efficacy. This was my ‘stay calm, while throwing the kitchen sink at fly strike’ approach.
It looked like this primarily because this is what I had on hand at the moment to work with (I actually ran to the store for injectable ivermectin. I’m told it’s common at most feed stores & used primarily on cows & pigs, but there is sheep dosage: .5 ml to 55 lbs)
*Injectable Ivermectin (very effective at fighting them from the inside out)
*a shot of antibiotic (to ward off infection)
*SWAT fly repellent clear balm (an equine product to keep flies away from wounds)
*Ivermectin horse dewormer used as a topical on the wound (I felt better about this then permethrin)
*banamine for pain
*a shot of BoSe (to strengthen the immune system)
*human grade generic bacitracin (I really like using generic brand, human grade ointment on my livestock)
Today Lexy seems lethargic, but I’m hoping it’s just the stress & heat of yesterday. My worry is that due to the challenging location I didn’t get all the maggots despite my best effort. I’m hoping that the injectable helps with that & that the paste I put on topically kills anything I couldn’t reach. I have him isolated, with the rare treat of a fan on him, eating hay & alfalfa pellets to keep his strength up & immune system strong.
Ugh, nothing like a day like that to leave you feeling flat. A bit depressed, queasy & wanting to take four showers. I’m still grateful the big guy came to me for help & I cringe to think if I’d missed the signals or hadn’t been in the pasture & accessible to him. These things happen to the very best shepherds on the nicest farms. It’s part of owning livestock, not a pretty part, but something that can always rise up & smack you.
Lexy at 8 weeks.
Try to take the time to watch your flock for 10-15 minutes a day. They grow use to you & you begin to read their behavior. You’ll begin to be able to see a problem long before it manifests into something serious. I feel those 10-15 minutes will save you much money in the long run. You’ll lose less stock & you’ll avoid expensive vet visits because you learn to nip things in the bud. This is a perfect example. Lexy isn’t out of the woods. I have to keep that crevice clean & monitored. I have my fingers crossed I killed off all the maggots. I won’t breath easy for a few weeks (or maybe until fall!). Right now things look very hopeful, but 5 days longer & I’m not certain I could have saved him at all.
Lexy is mostly hidden here on the fence line, just about a year old.
I learned an important lesson & if Lexy recovers then it’s one of the more gentle lessons I’ve gotten. Listen to your animal’s signals. Stay sensitive to them even when you’re in a hurry. This could have been a disaster. Thanks Lexy ♥️
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