The First Time I Took My Sheep to Auction: A Heartfelt Goodbye
- Kyla Johanson

- May 7, 2025
- 5 min read
There’s a moment in farming that no one ever truly prepares you for — the moment when you have to let go of some of your flock. For me, that moment came when I took a couple of my Babydoll sheep to auction, a decision I never expected to make. It was a bittersweet day, one filled with a mix of emotions, from heartache to pride, and a whole lot of uncertainty. I never imagined that my small hobby farm would require such a tough decision, but it did.

I remember that morning vividly: the air was crisp, and the world seemed quieter than usual. It was the kind of day where you feel the weight of every choice you’ve made, and you realize that the work you do isn’t just about growing things or raising animals — it’s about love, attachment, and the constant push and pull of responsibility. My little Babydoll sheep — two rams — had been with me through so much. They weren’t just animals; they were companions, a small part of my dream come to life.
The Connection
When you raise animals, especially ones that are as gentle and affectionate as Babydoll sheep, you form a deep bond with them. These sheep, with their sweet personalities and adorable faces, had become such a big part of my farm life. I loved the way they’d come to me when I called their names, the soft bleating of the lambs in spring, and the way they’d nuzzle up to me, trusting that I was there to care for them.
As I prepared to take them to the auction, I couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on my heart. Was I doing the right thing? I’ve been a small hobby farmer for a little while, but as much as I loved this little flock, it had become clear that managing a larger number of animals was no longer sustainable. My farm wasn’t large enough to support them, and financially, I had reached a point where I had to make some hard decisions. Downsizing had become a necessity, even though it felt like losing a piece of my heart.
The Auction Day
The drive to the auction was quiet, and I couldn’t help but reflect on the journey I’d had with these two sheep. The two rams had been full of energy and mischief. They’d bunted heads playfully at each other, always jostling for attention, always vying to be the one to “win.” I had always admired their personalities, and as I loaded them into the trailer, I felt like I was leaving behind a chapter of my life.
When we arrived at the auction house, I was surprised by how many other animals were there, all waiting for their turn to be sold. The auction was busy, loud, and filled with the energy of people bidding on animals that were just as precious to someone else as mine had been to me. I stood in the background, watching the process unfold, feeling like an outsider, but also part of something much bigger.
As the auctioneer’s voice filled the air, I fought back tears. I could hear the bidding, the excitement of new owners ready to take on these animals, but I couldn’t escape the lump in my throat. Was I making the right choice for them? I knew in my heart that they would find good homes, but the truth is, saying goodbye to them was harder than I expected.
The Struggles of Downsizing
Being a small hobby farm means juggling a lot of roles: caregiver, provider, and dreamer. When you start out, it’s all about growing and expanding. You envision yourself with a large flock, living in harmony with your animals, creating a sustainable and self-sufficient life. But there’s a harsh reality in farming that we don’t always talk about: the struggle of down-sizing. It’s something many small farmers face, especially when life throws unexpected challenges your way. Whether it’s financial strain, time constraints, or simply not being able to give the animals the care they deserve, sometimes the hardest part is knowing when to step back and make tough choices.
I’ll be honest — there’s still a part of me that feels like I’ve failed. Maybe I should’ve been able to manage more animals? Maybe I didn’t work hard enough? The inner voice of doubt is loud in moments like these, but what I’ve come to realize is that downsizing doesn’t mean failure. It means responsibility. It’s about giving the remaining animals the best care possible and accepting that your dream will evolve, sometimes in unexpected ways.
Letting Go
When the auction was over and my two sheep were on their way to new homes, I felt a mix of emotions: sadness, relief, pride, and uncertainty. The sadness was inevitable — letting go of animals that had become so intertwined with my daily life was hard. But there was also a sense of relief, knowing I had made a choice that would allow me to focus on the remaining animals I had and ensure they received the attention they deserved.
And then there was pride. Pride in knowing that I had given those sheep a good life. They were raised in a loving environment, and they had been a part of my journey in ways I would never forget. Sometimes farming isn’t just about keeping animals — it’s about knowing when to let go, to make space for new possibilities.
Moving Forward
As I look to the future, I know that downsizing isn’t the end of my story; it’s just the next chapter. I’ve learned a lot from these sheep — not just about farming, but about myself. I’ve learned that being a small hobby farmer means making tough choices, learning to grow with the challenges, and taking care of my animals in the best way I can.
The road ahead is uncertain, but I know one thing for sure: I’ll continue to care for the animals I have with the same love and dedication. And, just maybe, when the time is right, I’ll grow my flock again — but this time, with more wisdom and a better understanding of the balance that farming requires.
So, here’s to all the farmers out there — the ones who feel the weight of every decision, who love their animals fiercely, and who are doing the best they can with what they’ve got. It’s not always easy, but it’s always worth it.
On a side note, I was convinced to bring home an additional member to our farm. He weighs abut 3lbs and is about a foot long and goes by the name “Thumper”. He is a rex rabbit and my kids absolutely adore him. The love of animals will always run deep in my veins.

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