[Jacob-list] What is this sheep, anyway?

[Susan L. Nielsen]

Hi, List --

Posing a philosophical question here. Forgive me if this has
been done to death -- I see from the archives that such things 
have come up now and then, but I'm thinking we can't have too
much philosophy on the farm and trying to run a farm these days 
is at least 50% a philosophical exercise anyway. Maybe it's the 
autumn season that makes me ponder and ruminate... ;-)

... or maybe it's that I'm fairly new to this conservancy of 
breeds practice. I look out my windows and see this half-dozen
odd little animals wandering around with their mythical horns
and their goat-like bodies, and we are having such earnest
conversations over breakfast and between chores about what they 
might produce in breeding, and whether they are Good Examples 
of what they should be. And I have answered so many questions in 
the last weeks from people who are everything from amused to 
puzzled to delighted to know what they are ("What kind of goats 
are those?" "Is that some little kind of antelope out there?" 
"How did you get those extra horns?" "Can you eat it?").

And although I answer the questions with enthusiasm and with the 
benefit of all the book learnin' I've brought home this summer, 
it occurs to me to wonder what, exactly, they _are_ about?

It's easy to say they are a rare breed and that they are, from
the evidence, pretty ancient. But after all, they are not little
antiques running around the breeding paddock. Watch them come up
to you for treats and look you in the eye with an unsheep-like 
gaze and they seem very much like real animals, not relics.

"So, what is this sheep worth," they ask? 

I can think of 3 kinds of answers to that. The first is, "Oh,
around $200, that one there." The second is, "Well, you can sell
the fleece, you can sell the meat, you can sell the horns..."

And the third is the one that I'm fussing with this week: it's
value is in the diversity of the stock we keep. It's value is in
its heritage. It's value is in the fact that if we lose it, we
can never get back the unique bundle of characteristics that make
up a Jacob sheep.

But then, as I read through the discussions of improved and unimproved
stock, primitive, deerlike, standardized, landrace, selected... stock,
I ask myself, how do we know that what we look at as desirable in
this sheep is anything like what we want to think is an "original"
Jacob. And how can it be possible not to select for traits that
please us when we pair them? Is it not the case that our expressed
bias for "unimproved" Jacobs is as directional as a meat grower's
bias toward long loins and big individuals? Unless we were to turn
them all loose in the hills and let them have their way for a few
or a lot of generations, how would be know what they are?

What are we breeding for? I mean, what traits are we breeding for?
Are we looking to recreate a fossil sheep? Are we seeing how far
we can select, from among Jacob parents, a sheep with traits we
desire, such as fine fleece or good chops (apologies to jazz
musicians! ;-) )? Are we trying to see how nice a head of horns
we can get? Or is it enough to observe that horns vary, and that
sometimes you get bad eye notches, and that these sheep come in
all degrees of spotting and freckling, and that they are usually
rather small but sometimes they can be bigger, and that variation
that does not reduce vigor is probably good?

In fact, if preserved diversity is part of our goal, is it appropriate
to select rigorously for traits?

But then, what kind of husband of a breed would do otherwise than to
look after its best progress through the generations? What is the 
diversity worth if we can't draw on it?

Well, anyway, this is all pretty long, and it can keep a person up
all night counting sheep to think about it too much.

But maybe someone out there would like to toss in some thoughts
on it?

Susan
--
Susan Nielsen, Shambles Workshops      |"...Gently down the  
Beavercreek, OR, USA                   |stream..."
snielsen at orednet.org                   |           -- Anon.