Today is June 15, 2007, one of the saddest days I have ever experienced. I watch my brother, Ron Shirts of Shirts Brothers Sheep; load his lambs on trucks this morning…maybe for the last time.
My brother’s wife has been crying all night, saying, “Please don’t sell the lambs.” What choice does he have? He has no place to go after finding out on June 13 at 5:30 p.m. that he would not be allowed to take two of his three bands of sheep back on his forest allotment. It has been a long spring, trying to negotiate with the Forest Service and trying to deal with others who know little and care less about the logistics of managing 1,880 head of ewes with young lambs by their sides.
My brother tried to stop the loss of his range, but a Federal District Court Judge failed to grant his request to go back to the forest allotment on June 18. He was out of feed. Every minute that passed without his sheep on good feed jeopardized the health of the lambs, as well as cost him money. The lambs could lose five pounds in one day if he did not act immediately after receiving the June 13 decision. A selling price of $1.13 per pound on 3,200 head of lambs could cost him $18,000…in one day!
More than $100,000 had been spent in legal and consulting fees and related costs trying to maintain his entitlement to go back to the forest allotment on June 18 and to save his 2007 lamb crop—maybe his best ever. He had received pasture in exchange for building two miles of fence through rocky terrain. He had promised to feed a rancher’s cows later this summer if his sheep could graze on their pasture now. It had been a stressful spring, routing the sheep over the same areas twice in places that should have been grazed only once, because the first band should have been on the forest allotment on May 16, a month ago.
It started quite reasonably. In 1997, the U.S. Forest Service and the Idaho Department of Fish & Game and others wanted to transplant bighorn sheep into the Hells Canyon area. Believing that this could be appropriate, all involved agreed that the transplants could occur as long as domestic sheep operators were not harmed due to any claim of disease transmission between bighorn sheep and domestic sheep. All relied upon and followed this agreement for many years.
In 2005, however, the agreement was inappropriately characterized. This resulted in the Forest Service preparing in early 2006 a “risk analysis” of disease transmission between bighorns and domestic sheep. Beyond the serious problems with the “analysis,” it also encouraged many third parties to believe that grazing should be terminated immediately on Shirts Brothers Sheep allotment before the Forest Service completed its “analysis.” Regretfully, after several rounds, the Forest Service let these third parties have their way, at least for the 2007 grazing season.
My brother looks at the dry hills in the distance. He must find a suitable place to graze his ewes until October and then maybe he will be able to get back on his forest allotment next year. He knows that will depend on many variables, including the outcome of the “analysis.” He remains hopeful that at least the Forest Service and others will follow the commitments made in 1997 so as to maintain the viability of his domestic sheep operations and the bighorn sheep in the Hells Canyon area and the Payette National Forest.
He had found out just five days before turnout on May 11 that he could not turn out his early band for three weeks. Worse yet, he could not graze his remaining two bands on the forest allotment in 2007 at all. Only five days before turnout…five days in an industry that needs notice of at least a year and should have three to five years to phase out its operations in order to limit the liquidation losses that occur. It made him question the judicial system when he had to get off his allotment for a bighorn sheep that might wander onto his range during the 2007 grazing season. This was something that hadn’t happened in the last three grazing seasons, according to the Forest Service’s own information. He had been told as late as February 1 by the Forest Service to plan on turning out and grazing his three bands of sheep as he had normally and historically done.
He thinks about things the Forest Service had told him: “We keep our promises.” And the Foundation of North American Wild Sheep had said, “We will never hurt you.” He now understands that some will say anything and spin half-truths to keep their careers or their causes alive.
His anger turns to heartbreak as he thinks back to age 13 when he herded a band by himself in Hells Canyon. He remembers how he worked his way through college, then elected after graduation to follow his love of the outdoors in Hells Canyon and the sheep industry. The profession had not been easy, all night in the lambing shed to save the one lamb that may mean profit or loss in lean times. He thinks about the characteristics that were bred into the sheep in the last 25 years and the improvements he has made in this year’s ewe lambs, ewe lambs that will not pass on improved traits to the future but will instead be slaughtered. He remembers the words of a national lamb buyer saying, “These are some of the best lambs in America.”
He notices his three-year-old son poking a ewe with a stick to move her up the chute. Will his children remember the days of shearing the sheep and feeding the orphaned lambs? What will he do with his White Freightliner that he bought a year ago as a necessity when the closest sheep trucking company sold all but one truck? What will happen to the new bunkhouse he built for his men? What about the lambing shed with its canvas draped over the top? And what about his men and their heartache?
His men had been anxious to see how this year’s lambs would finish out, how much bigger they would be than last year, who would win the $10 pool for guessing the closest average weight of the lambs, how much money would they have earned to send home to their families. He thinks about how good his herders had become over the years, Peruvians who were passionate about their jobs and the sheep. They had come to this country legally to enjoy their part of the American dream.
A lamb jumps in the chute, and he watches his wife put it back in the narrow alley. What a wonderful mate, so pretty and so pleasant to be with, so good to his family yet out here handling the sheep although she is eight months pregnant with their third child.
He sees his 80-year-old father pushing up the sheep from the back of the corral. He had seen his dad choke up when he told him he was selling the lambs. He remembers all of the things his father had taught him, the stories he had told about shearing sheep in Hells Canyon, his laughter at pulling an innocent prank. He thinks about his sheep dogs, especially his favorite old dog Joe. Will he ever have a border collie again? Maybe, but he may never herd a sheep.
The third truck pulls up to take the last load of lambs. The loading goes quickly; he hears the mothers crying for their babies. He has heard it before, but this time…he is crying with them.
