Baby Lambs!

Galadriel had twins late Tuesday night -- a boy and a girl. I was getting ready to go to bed about 11 pm when I heard something that sounded very much like a lamb. Sure enough, there were two! In order to move them to the lambing pen, I had to put the flashlight in my pocket. It's not easy catching two black lambs, one in each hand, on a very dark night.

Lambs Really Do Bounce

No pictures, but the lamb is one week old today. While the grown-ups munched their hay, the lamb bounced to the gate and then back to her mother. Then back to the gate to sniff noses with Logan, who wagged his tail at the exchange. Then back to the flock again she went. The young have such incredible joy in everything they do.

An Unexpected Lamb

Last week I had to go out of town for a couple days because of a family crisis. When I asked a friend to feed my sheep while I was away, I told her no one was due to lamb. Oops, my mistake. She called me the second day to say I might want to come back a bit early because a lamb was born that morning.

It was dark when I got home, so checking on mother and baby was a bit challenging. This was the ewe's first lambing, and she was pretty skittish of me, but I finally caught her. I wrestled her to the ground and checked that she had milk flowing from both teats. I hadn't sheared the udder area yet, and there was a lot of wool to confuse the lamb while she looked for a meal.

Balancing a flashlight on one thigh, I held the unhappy ewe down with my forearm and swept wool aside with that hand to expose a teat. With my other hand, I grabbed the wriggling baby and guided her to nurse. She had clearly eaten earlier, but I didn't know how often she had succeeded in finding milk.  Afterwards, I bottle fed the lamb milk replacer to ensure she had enough food.

The next morning, when it was light enough to see what I was doing, I caught the ewe again and sheared the udder area to give the baby a clear path to the milk. I bottle fed the lamb again to supplement her feed. I put mother and baby in the lambing pen to encourage bonding and kept them in there until the next day. It allowed me to give the ewe extra feed away from the other sheep, as well. Being overly cautious, I went ahead and gave the lamb milk replacer again.

I think I may have overdone it with the bottle feeding, though. Now, in addition to nursing, the lamb runs to me every time I go out to feed the sheep, wanting her bottle!

I can hardly walk without tripping over her.

After I fed the sheep this morning, I turned around and saw Logan, my dog, had somehow got in with sheep. The lamb approached him, and he backed away. She came closer, and he trotted off. I was surprised, relieved, and amused. He wouldn't hurt her on purpose, but he is much bigger than she is, so I was glad he didn't want to play.

I went back into the sheep area to get Logan. He didn't want to leave and kept walking away from me. I followed the dog, and the lamb followed me, practically stepping on my heels, wanting more milk replacer. It was all pretty darn cute. I finally caught Logan and managed to get him out the gate while keeping the lamb inside. Sometimes the simple task of feeding the sheep can be a lot more exciting than expected!

Return Trip

A few weeks ago I sold one of the lambs, Midnight, to a friend, Pam, in Chino Valley, a town about 30 miles from Wilhoit. Pam has a Shetland sheep and a few goats, so Midnight had ready-made companions.

At first, Midnight seemed to be doing alright. But after a few days, Pam emailed me, concerned that the lamb seemed depressed. We exchanged information and ideas and agreed to keep in touch. By the end of the week, though, Pam and her husband were really worried. Midnight was barely eating, and she was spending most of her time laying by herself near the barn. They asked if they could bring her back to Wilhoit. We agreed we needed to do what was best for her health-- that they return her and I refund their money. We just hoped that she would recover once she got here.

So nine days after she left, Midnight came home. She started grazing the minute she exited their van. My other sheep were in the sheep enclosure, munching on hay. I opened the gate, Midnight entered, ran straight for the hay, and started eating.

She and her mother, Sierra, didn't even exchange glances. We, the spectators, had hoped for a movie reunion moment and were disappointed by their lackadaisical attitude, but at least Midnight was eating!

After awhile, the sheep sauntered over to say hello and get petted. At that point, Sierra and Midnight did acknowledge each other, with Sierra smelling the lamb and a metaphorical light bulb going off over her head. Midnight tried to nurse, but Sierra kicked her away, basically saying, "You're weaned. What do you think you're doing?"

Happily, Midnight has eaten and behaved normally since she's been home. She enthusiastically kicks up her heels when I throw hay over the fence, and when I open the gate, she joyously rushes out to graze with the rest of the flock. She hangs out with her mother and the other lambs and acts like she never left.

I've sold quite a few sheep over the years. I've never had one not adjust to their new environment. It was odd. But, you know, sheep are people, too, and every one is different.

Midnight, back at home

Sierra and her daughter, Midnight

Midnight -- Another Lamb!

On January 24, Sierra the Younger (as opposed to Sierra the Elder, her mother) had a ewe lamb. These pictures were taken a few days ago. Midnight, the lamb, is about 1 month old in them.

Sierra the Younger pursued life options other than motherhood for her first four years. She lived in Chino Valley with some Shetland ewes with nary a ram in sight. In August, she returned to my ranch, met a nice ram, and likely became pregnant the day she got here, considering that gestation is normally five months, and she gave birth a few days less than five months after she arrived!

Midnight is only about two weeks younger than Petra's twins, so they can all play together.

Twins

Petra had twins on Sunday, both girls.

This is Logan's (my dog's) first year of lambing. I think he is a little bemused, but interested.

More Baby Lamb Pictures

The first photo is Wolverine. The rest are Wolverine and Callisto with their mother, Minerva.

Wolverine and Callisto

Minerva had twins! They were born Sunday. I've named the boy Wolverine and the girl Callisto. Most of the pictures are of Minerva and Wolverine. Callisto had apparently just eaten and wanted to nap.

You can't see Wolverine's tail because he's wagging it furiously. Lambs often wag their tails when they eat. If you're trying to get a reluctant lamb to nurse, wiggle its tail when it's near the mother's teat. The action encourages it to suckle.

Storm and Thor

I took some twilight pictures of two of the lambs, Storm and Thor. Rogue kept disappearing among the adults, so I'll have to get photos of her later. Storm is the one with the white spot on top of her head. Actually, they all have a small tuft of white, but hers is the most noticeable.

Storm

It's a good thing I planned to let Petra and Rogue out of the lambing pen today because it was needed by a new set of residents. Boudica gave birth to a good-sized black ewe lamb this morning, who I've named Storm.

Considering how difficult it was to get Petra into the lambing pen, it was surprising how hard it was to get her to leave it. Most mothers go in easily, simply following their lambs that I carry in. But since Petra wasn't showing much interest in Rogue, she had to be forcibly ensconced.

This morning I opened the gate to let the two of them out, and they just stood there looking at me. I picked up Rogue and set her in another part of the barn. Petra didn't move. I finally gave her a shove, and she left. It took her a few minutes to find Rogue, but at least she looked for her and seemed content when she found her. New mothers -- sometimes you just have to shake your head in disbelief.

When I went out to feed the sheep this morning, I found Boudica in the barn cleaning Storm, so she was just recently born. I gave the ewe some hay and left them alone, so she could finish cleaning the baby and bonding. A couple hours later I moved them both to the lambing pen.

Years ago I read the excellent advice to carry newborn lambs only a foot or so from the ground so that their mothers can follow. The writer (I've forgotten who right now, but it was probably Ron Parker) pointed out that lambs normally don't fly, so mothers don't think to look for them at a height of four or five feet where they'd be in your arms when you're standing. Therefore, you need to carry them close to the ground where their mothers expect them to be. This position isn't bad when you don't have far to move them. However, long distances can be a bit tough on the back and legs. Heloise once gave birth to large twins a good 50 yards from the barn. Walking backwards with a lamb in each hand all the way to the barn wasn't fun.

The very short trip to the lambing pen this morning went fine, though. Boudica devotedly followed her lamb and went calmly into the lambing pen. Perhaps she had noted all the extra hay Petra has been getting in there the last couple days and was looking forward to the food.

Rogue

Rogue arrived on Wednesday -- a little black ewe lamb whose ma-a-a is a first-time mother. Many beginning mothers figure things out right away. This ewe, Petra, unfortunately did not. When Dierdre and I entered the barn and found mother and daughter, Petra fled from the dog, leaving Rogue alone. Not what a shepherd wants to see. Mothers should defend their young.

The lamb was dry and seemed to have nursed, but I wasn't sure. Petra went off to dine with the other sheep, leaving Rogue alone again. Before I went in that night, I wrestled Petra and made her let Rogue nurse. I did the same the next morning.

When I got home from work, I was quite concerned that the baby wasn't eating, at least not regularly. I found Petra socializing with the other sheep and Rogue alone in the barn. I decided I better pen them together. I made an enclosure using some chain-link gates. I coerced Petra inside and plunked Rogue in with her. I made sure she nursed again, as well.

Let me digress about the wonderful usefulness of chain-link gates. Someone gave a dozen gates to a friend of mine a few years ago, and he gave me three of them. They're 3' high x 4' long. I've used them as wool drying racks, to enclose part of the shearing enclosure, and as portable pens. Moveable, strong, and sheep-proof, they're incredibly handy to have around.

Petra has finally figured out the mothering thing. Rogue looks well-fed now. I'm going to leave them together in the stall until tomorrow, though, just to make sure Petra understands this ewe-lamb relationship is ongoing.

I don't have any pictures yet but will soon. So in the meantime I decided to include two pictures of Dierdre. It's been raining for a couple of days, and there is a lot of mud near the barn. Dierdre takes her job seriously, which means she braves all weather. Wow, is she wet and muddy.

I had to buy and unload some hay this afternoon, despite the rain. Dierdre, as always, kept me company. We were both drenched by the time I finished. We came in the house, and I changed clothes. I couldn't figure out why I still smelled like a wet barn until I looked down and saw Dierdre standing next to me. Hmmm, the source of the odor. I cleaned and dried her as well as I could. The "wet" picture is the result. The second photo is what she usually looks like.

Thor

Freyja gave birth to the first lamb of the season this morning. I've named him Thor. (Keep in mind this is ovine genealogy, not Norse mythology, so the relationships are a little off.)

The low last night was about 14 degrees, and it reached a toasty 32 degrees for a high. Thor is handling the temperature like the Norse god he's named after; it doesn't seem to be bothering him at all.

He was about six hours old when I took the pictures.

Lamb Psychology

I know, I know, in my last post, I said it was pointless to try to figure out lamb psychology, but this lamb's actions are just too strange.

She keeps following Dierdre around. Last night, we went to the barn to feed Astra. There's a divider in the barn that used to be part of a stall. While I stood there with a bottle of milk in my hand, Dierdre circled the divider four times with Astra in tow. By the end, I think Dierdre was getting kind of freaked; she couldn't shake the lamb. I finally stepped in and grabbed Astra, who hungrily started eating when I stuck the bottle in front of her face.

Today, Dierdre and I were walking, and Astra ran up to us. I veered left, Dierdre right. Astra followed Dierdre, sticking to her side, slightly behind her shoulder, just as lambs often follow their mothers. The dog swerved and changed pace; the lamb stayed with her.

I feed her. Dierdre pesters her and herds her. Yes, Dierdre is sort of sheep-sized. She has four legs. She's very furry. But I feed her! I just don't get it.

On a cute and less-confused note, two friends helped feed Astra yesterday. All parties were quite happy (once we got Astra away from Dierdre).

Baby Animal Updates

Heloise's lamb is doing well. She's guzzling lamb milk replacer from a bottle four times a day. I'm a bit frustrated, though, that she's not running to me each time I go out. Instead, she heads straight for Dierdre. Considering I feed her, and the dog pushes her around and tries to herd her, I'm not sure why the lamb's made the choice she has. But trying to understand lamb psychology is probably futile.

I moved the chicks to larger accommodations last week. They adjusted quickly to the bigger space, although they protested greatly during the two seconds it took to move each of them from the large box they were in to their new digs. Growing chicks certainly eat a lot!

Very Sad

Heloise, our favorite sheep, died on Sunday. She likely had mastitis. Her lamb was only eight days old.

I didn't notice anything wrong until late Saturday afternoon. She had one injection of penicillin, but it wasn't enough or in time to help her.

I'm bottle feeding her lamb. She's had some trouble adjusting to a bottle, but she is eating some. I've seen her try to nurse from other ewes, but they keep pushing her away. She guzzled the milk from the bottle last night, but she wouldn't take it this morning. I'm hoping that means she was full because she managed to nurse from someone, but I'm not sure. She did drink several ounces from the bottle a little while ago, though.

The other sheep are looking after her, in general. She's sleeping with them and wandering around the property as part of the flock. She keeps crying, though. I know she wants Heloise.

Heloise was one of the first two sheep I bought. She's my "cover sheep" on my home page, and I often tell stories about her. It's hard to pinpoint all the reasons why she was so special. I guess she just had that certain something about her.

We always called her our Zen sheep. She seemed to take everything in stride. Even her arrival here was bumpy. Heloise and Juliana, her travelling companion, had an adventurous trip to our ranch. I arranged to meet their original owner, who was traveling from California to Arkansas, at a sheep ranch about 40 miles north of Wilhoit. However, my truck broke down a few miles short of my destination. It was two days before we could get it running again, so Juliana and Heloise had a short, but unexpected, stay up north. We finally got the truck going late in the afternoon of the second day. We loaded the sheep and set out…and broke down again after driving less than a mile. As the sun was setting, and then in total darkness, we winched our pick-up (with Heloise and Juliana still in the back) on to a trailer, and the truck and sheep got towed all the way back to Wilhoit.

When she had her first lamb, Minerva, she was a caring but not overly-anxious mother. She let Minerva explore and only called her back it she wandered too far. Some mothers, especially first-time ones, will hardly let their lambs out of their sight. Heloise took a more relaxed, and perhaps progressive, view of motherhood.

When Minerva was a couple months old, a strange dog got into the property and started harrassing the sheep. By the time I got to the barn, all the sheep were huddled together except for three. Francesco, the alpha ram, Heloise, and Minerva stood out in front of the others, between them and the dog. Luckily, I got there before the stand-off was broken and chased the dog away, but it was fascinating who protected the rest.

Heloise was always interested in what was going on around her. She made friends with the horses and dogs next door, putting her nose through the fence to touch theirs. She liked to have her chin rubbed, and she loved molasses.

I put molasses in a honey-bear squeeze bottle and give it to nursing mothers. All the sheep like the taste of it, but I have to force it into the mouths of most of them. Heloise, though, figured out very quickly the advantages of opening her mouth of her own accord and drinking from the bottle. She would come running when she saw me carrying that honey-bear bottle. A neighbor once asked if I had brandy in there, considering the enthusiasm with which Heloise was drinking.

Poor Heloise, as one of the first sheep here, she was also one of the first to be sheared by us, inexperienced as we were. I won't pretend she didn't make a fuss, but we all survived, and the shearing experience has improved over the years. When I sheared her last summer, she fought a little about getting on the shearing stand, but once she was there, she seemed resigned to the experience. She knew she would be more comfortable once that heavy fleece was gone.

She was also very practical. I usually take two or three trips to give the sheep hay. Every time I give them more, the sheep run over to the new batch, sure it's going to be better than what they've got in front of them. The grass is always greener, right? Heloise, though, often stayed where she was, apparently realizing it was all the same, and once the others had scrambled to the other hay, she had the first batch all to herself.

Although I've read that some other breeds of sheep will let any lamb nurse, I've only seen my ewes allow their own babies to eat. Heloise, however, was flexible on that issue. A few years ago, one of Minerva's lambs indiscriminately nursed from both Minerva and Heloise. Not surprisingly she was big! But Heloise had no problem with it and nursed that lamb as willingly as her own.

Heloise had beautiful wool -- long, shiny, ringlets, and her dreadlocks were classic Cotswold. I always loved shearing her and seeing the cascades of wool come off.

We'll miss her.