What happened?

Monica's twin Minnie delivered twins on Saturday, her first lambing as well, at her new farm.

One lamb was more vigorous, which is not unusual, and the smaller was soon recovered by bottlefeeding in the shepherdess' care as Minnie seemed overwhelmed by motherhood, and more so the task of raising twins. By evening, the first was found dead, so the second was returned to the lambless mother, and it too suffered an apparent trampling, like the first. Why?

I question what I might have done differently as the parent farm. The shepherdess did all that I would have done, and having grown up on farms, and experienced birth and bonding in whelping litters of puppies, is as experienced and capable as they come. Why was Minnie unsuccessful? The shepherdess started her flock with two bred yearling ewes. It seemed like a good start, and many choose to begin flocks this way. But now I question, even though "everybody is doing it," is it the wisest start? As a parent farm, judging from this tragic outcome, and heartbreak as an introduction to sheep, what can I do to ensure future success of our daughter flocks? What can I learn from this?

Yes, Soay sheep are wild sheep, and prized for their ease of lambing, and lack of assistance required from a shepherd...they are natural mothers, and bummer lambs are few. I do not want to detract from this quality, but can I manage them differently to ensure this success?

To begin, as my ewe lambs are growing, I think it might be helpful if I handle their udders, so the sensation of nursing doesn't come as such a shock...

In placing bred ewes perhaps a yearling would be more successful if she were with an older ewe who has lambed, to learn from observation. Monica had this advantage. She watched her mother lamb, and her aunt, and was able to see her aunt care for twins through the jug rails. She saw them nursing, and heard the "mama speak" that Stellar used to call, calm and admonish the lambs while waiting for her own to be delivered. To ease the shock of motherhood, she had the reassurance of the experienced mothers, and is growing comfortable in her role, as did the yearlings that lambed here last year...Minnie didn't have this. Is this the critical difference?

Perhaps I will also delay the breeding of the young ewes a month, so that the older ewes lamb first, and the first-time mothers-to-be have a good chance to observe and grow accustomed to all that motherhood entails...

Will the other yearling succeed after having witnessed the demise of the other's lambs? Will her instinct carry her and her lamb, or is modelling from other members of a flock critical? In my opinion, from this point, it is preferred...

A New Generation...

Welcome, Edwin, Monica's first lamb!

Morning comes early here, especially during lambing season. Barn check is at 6am...typically about the time my Soays lamb. Thursday morning tempted me to stay in bed later, with snow beginning to fall, and the fire in the furnace having gone out in the middle of the night - leaving the air in the house brisk. The bed was so warm and comfortable...but not comfortable enough to risk losing a lamb.

I put the coffee on and bundled up for the barn, tucking a breakfast cookie in my pocket in case I was delayed by what I found. The sheep were anticipating my visit, and began their usual bawling as soon as they heard my feet on the gravel drive. I heard no nickering, so if any were to be born today, they hadn't arrived as yet. I waded through the mob of mothers-to-be clamoring for a tidbit, checked Aurora and Eclipse, who has begun leaping, dancing and climbing, Stellar and her wide-eyed twins, and in the last occupied jug, little Monica, our yearling. Monica was clearly in labor, and bewildered, despite having witnessed two lambings already.

So as not to distress her, I went back up to the house to get a thermos of coffee, put breakfast on the table for the family, and arrived back in the barn just in time to find her cleaning her newborn. She had gotten a good start, but it was in the 20's and beginning to snow. She wasn't quite as efficient as her lamb needed her to be in this unseasonable weather, and I couldn't bear losing another lamb to exposure.

I took a towel and assisted her in the drying and warming, for which she seemed grateful. She was eager to claim him, and cleaned him with enthusiasm. In fact each time we got him dry, she would lick him wet again. The cleaning was a task she enjoyed, though only half of what she was expected to do. The most critical need was to nurse, to warm him from the inside out, and that was something she preferred not to do.

Having experienced labor, and the passing of a wet wriggling thing, was freakish enough for her, without having her udder being manipulated as well, and all of the sensations that entailed. She wanted nothing to do with it and decided the best course of action was to commence to cleaning him again. Without nursing, the lamb would lose strength and vigor, and soon would be unable to accomplish the task. With assistance and coaching, Edwin soon had his first meal and was ready to sleep. Monica, wanting to return to a sense of normalcy, went for the feeder and left him in my care to sleep off his first snack.

She was quick to notice his absence though, and in the picture above, returns to claim and clean him again. I made hourly checks thoughout the day, and before long, they had accomplished nursing on their own, though awkwardly, with Monica squatting and lifting her leg to minimize the contact Edwin made. Many times I found them snuggled together, Monica alert and watchful, clearly content with her new charge.

Good Morning to Ewe!

Stellar's twins arrived early (5:30 am) yesterday morning, and Praise God! I was there. It is in the 20's overnight still, quite a shock for a little wet lamb, and a brutal wake up to the world outside a warm mama, even when born in the barn. I helped towel them dry and rub them warm as Stellar nuzzled them and encouraged them to take breakfast. I was too guarded yesterday to write, as there is always a weaker twin, but as you can see from the family portrait (taken this morning, 24 hours later) I woke up to a happy, cozy little sheep family in their jug in the barn while outside, it is snowing again. The snow that fell in back in December still covers the ground...will we ever see signs of Spring outside the barn?

True to form, Stellar and Garcia have produced a little ram lamb, Promised Land Eli, and a little ewe lamb, Promised Land Elsie. Elsie is in the foreground, and Eli is atop mama.

I missed Bible Study to keep vigil over the lambs, should one start to decline. I had a moment of guilt, thinking that I wasn't where I was supposed to be. What a strange thought, because God is with me wherever I am, and he has given me stewardship over these animals, trusted them to my care. I love my Bible Study group, and the women are so dear to me. It is truly the highlight of my week. But I have learned more about my relationship with Jesus and His character through caring for my sheep.

There are so many references to sheep in the Bible, and to Jesus as our Good Shepherd. Caring for my sheep makes these passages so real - they are no longer words on a page. Each day I check the sheep several times, each one. To them it must seem that I am just scanning the horizon, but in reality, I am looking at eyes, ears, noses, coats, alertness, girth, fetal movement, signs of labor, hooves, condition, is the temperature comfortable, what is the condition of the pasture, have they enough water, are the fences secure, is foul weather impending, is there adequate shade, are my older ewes still thriving - does anyone need special care? As they approach lambing, I will check even hourly, or find work to do in the barn, so I can hear any sign of distress...each one is counted, and each one is precious. God does the same for us, each one of us, all of the time.

One of my favorite passages in the Bible is the 23rd Psalm, familiar to many as the one read at death. It is so much more! It is about life, not death. Recently I found a book written by Phillip Keller, A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23. You will never look at a reference to sheep or The Shepherd in the same way...

Our chicken is famous...

Rather than offer you my thoughts today, here is a link to an article that appeared on the front page of yesterday's local paper, featuring one of our hens, Joy, and me on my "Easter chick tirade". Joy was an unwanted Easter chick that came to live on our farm last year...little did we know she would someday be famous!

http://www.cdapress.com/articles/2008/03/22/news/news01.txt

First Lamb of 2008

Our 2008 lambing season is rife with

trepidation and anticipation...

Typically we would be pasture lambing this time of year, but winter gave us record snowfall, and little melting. Our pastures are still covered in deep snow and ice, and where we plowed to give the sheep access to the outdoors a couple of months ago is now mud and standing water. I brought in wooden pallets to construct a sheep bridge to the snowbanks so they could traverse the moat. On a sunny day, rather than a bucolic scene reminiscent of Currier & Ives, the sheep laying on the snow look like walruses sunning on ice floes at the North Pole. In a typical year, they would be dispersed throughout the pastures, nibbling new shoots of grass, the fields dotted with frisky little lambs! Not this year. We have been setting up lambing jugs in the barn, and stocking up bedding to keep everybody clean and warm. Rather than being thrilled at the prospect of lambs, we are uneasy, knowing that a break in the weather is not coming, in fact it is supposed to continue to snow all week...Having brought in a new flock of Icelandics in January with uncertain lambing dates adds to the concern...

joy and sorrow...

Last night, when I went out to feed, I was surprised to discover Eclipse, our first lamb of 2008! What joy! She was born to Aurora, one of our senior Soay ewes, who had not shown any sign of an impending delivery at midday. Not surprising with the experienced ones, who do well on their own. But only one? Aurora always twins with this breeding...we searched and sadly found the first twin, another ewe, had died of exposure during Aurora's efforts to care for the second. Eclipse must have come quickly, because Aurora hadn't had time to dry the first. We have never lost a lamb at birth before. We knew a day would come...and sadly it is here.
We joyfully welcome Promised Land Eclipse, and sorrowfully part with her twin, Promised Land Eternity, knowing that despite the loss, we are blessed.

Resignation

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

There is no flock, however watched and tended,

But one dead lamb is there!

There is no fireside, howsoe`er defended,

But has one vacant chair!

The air is full of farewells to the dying,

And mournings for the dead;

The heart of Rachel, for her children crying,

Will not be comforted!

Let us be patient! These severe afflictions

Not from the ground arise,

But oftentimes celestial benedictions

Assume this dark disguise.

We see but dimly through the mists and vapors;

Amid these earthly damps

What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers

May be heaven`s distant lamps.

There is no Death! What seems so is transition;

This life of mortal breath

Is but a suburb of the life elysian,

Whose portal we call Death.

She is not dead, - the child of our affection, -

But gone unto that school

Where she no longer needs our poor protection,

And Christ himself doth rule.

In that great cloister`s stillness and seclusion,

By guardian angels led,

Safe from temptation, safe from sin`s pollution,

She lives whom we call dead.

Day after day we think what she is doing

In those bright realms of air;

Year after year, her tender steps pursuing,

Behold her grown more fair.

Thus do we walk with her, and keep unbroken,

The bond which nature gives,

Thinking that our remembrance, though unspoken,

May reach her where she lives.

Not as a child shall we again behold her;

For when with raptures wild

In our embraces we again enfold her,

She will not be a child;

But a fair maiden, in her Father`s mansion,

Clothed with celestial grace;

And beautiful with all the soul`s expansion

Shall we behold her face.

And though at times impetuous with emotion

And anguish long suppressed,

The swelling heart heaves moaning like the ocean,

That cannot be at rest, -

We will be patient, and assuage the feeling

We may not wholly stay;

By silence sanctifying, not concealing,

The grief that must have way.