This Week at Briden Farm - July 5–11, 2026
There are weeks when everything goes according to plan.
This wasn’t one of them!
And yet, somehow, by the end of the week, everything that truly mattered had been accomplished.
The week began with a difficult goodbye as Blue headed off to her new home. Like every puppy that’s left Briden Farm, she took a little piece of our hearts with her. Before long, though, photos began arriving from her new family. She was smiling, enjoying car rides and settling into her new life. Knowing she was loved made saying goodbye just a little easier.
Back at the barn, it was time to prepare for sheep shearing. Fence lines were trimmed, paddocks rearranged and the flock moved behind the barn. Once again the sheep quietly followed to fresh pasture, a reminder that patience and consistency really do pay off.
Then came one of those moments every livestock owner dreads.
Rose became tangled in the electric netting.
For a few terrifying moments, I thought we’d lost her.
Thankfully, after switching off the fence and carefully untangling her, she jumped up, had a drink, nursed her mother and, before long, was climbing on my back as though nothing had happened. Sometimes you’re reminded just how quickly life can change, and just as quickly how grateful you can be when it doesn’t.
Craig Sarty arrived to shear the sheep, and by the end of a very long day the flock was wearing its summer coats—or rather, no coats at all. The sheep were more comfortable, hooves were trimmed and another important job was checked off the list.
Meanwhile, Bear officially moved into the house with Roscoe and River.
House training continued, and every day he seemed to understand a little more. He began asking to go outside more consistently, learned from watching the older dogs and continued growing into the gentle little fellow we’ve come to know.
The DOGOITM GPS collars also took another big step forward.
After weeks of testing, programming and walking boundaries, both collars consistently beeped and vibrated at the same locations. The question has changed from “Will they work?” to “How can we fine-tune them?” Before long, Roscoe will begin learning the invisible boundary that will hopefully allow him greater freedom while keeping him safely at home.
Not every lesson this week belonged to the animals.
One evening Brooke greeted us with a dead chicken in her mouth.
Years ago—or perhaps not even that many years ago—I might have reacted very differently.
Instead, I walked away.
Tomorrow would be a better day to teach the lesson.
I’m still a Rough Ashlar.
Still being shaped.
That may have been one of my biggest lessons of the week.
Another surprise came when my new voice recorder went through the washing machine.
That one was on me.
It had been left in my pocket.
Whether it survives or not remains to be seen, but it certainly provided one more story for the journal.
This week also reminded me that creativity sometimes becomes its own kind of rest.
After learning of the passing of Edwin “Frenchy” Thériault, I wrote Frenchy’s Legacy as a tribute to the man whose vision helped so many Atlantic Canadian families.
I hoped his family might hear it.
They did.
Through friends, the song found its way to the Thériault family, who kindly let us know how much they appreciated it. I’ve even been told it may have brought a few tears. If that’s true, I hope they were tears of love and remembrance.
As the week came to a close, we found ourselves returning to pastures first grazed last year.
Looking at the fields and the trees, I’m more convinced than ever that last year’s drought—and what I believe continues to be drier-than-normal conditions—has affected growth throughout our area. Thankfully, rotational grazing and a willingness to expand into new grazing areas have left us better prepared than we were a year ago.
Perhaps that’s another lesson farming teaches.
Every season prepares you for the next one.
Looking back over this week, I realize there was a common thread through almost every day.
Trust.
Trusting the sheep to follow.
Trusting the dogs to learn.
Trusting a young goat to stand quietly while being milked.
Trusting that tomorrow is often the best time to teach a lesson.
Trusting neighbours, friends and strangers who still choose kindness.
And above all…
Trusting that even when the days are long, the work is hard and the answers aren’t always obvious, somehow we’ve been cared for.
Briden Farm has never really been just about raising livestock.
It’s about building relationships.
With the land.
With the animals.
With neighbours.
With friends.
With family.
And with God.
Sometimes those relationships are the greatest harvest of all.
Until next week…
God bless.
— Brian Hurlburt
Briden Farm
PS: Read “Today at Briden Farm at BridenFarm.com
