Waiting game

I have ten or twelve very pregnant ewes now. They are riding low, their udders are full, and they walk like they are pulling a cart. This presents a problem since Matt and I both work and can't be there to wait for the birth. In the morning I get up first, put the coffee on, walk the dogs, feed/water the chickens and bunnies and get ready for work. Matt gets up, showers and dresses, and goes down to the field to check for lambs. He carries his cell phone so he can call me at home, then I can call in to work. I have saved all my sick days for spring. My co-workers take sick days, I take sheep days.

You might ask, why do you need to be there? Aren't sheep capable of doing it themselves? Well, sheep are so much like people it is astounding. Some sheep are great mothers and others are terrible. Take my Myrna...it has been two year so I can talk about it now. My beautiful "high percentage" Bluefaced Leicester ewe, Myrna, was pregnant for the first time. I watched and watched for any signs of impending birth; swelling of her udders, puffiness of her back end, listlessness, etc. Nothing that I could see. One day I rushed home from work, went straight to the field as I often do during lambing season, and saw Myrna, running to the fence from the middle of the field. She was baaing and baaing loudly as if to say, "Mommy, mommy, something terrible happened!" I could see from afar two little black dots in the grass. My heart sank as I ran over to the spot. There were two perfectly formed black lambs lying dead in the grass. I can only imagine what must have happened...Myrna just ran away from the pain and did not mother them. If I had been there I would have picked them up and coaxed mom to follow up into the lean-to. I would rub them vigourously and shot a squirt of Nutri-drench into their mouths. I would get mom in a bear hug while reaching under her belly to strip the waxy plug out of the bottom of her teat, then save some of the thick, yellow colostrum in a jar. I would draw up some of this precious fluid in the barrel of a syringe and slowly shoot it into the back of the lambs mouths. This colostrum lights a fire in the belly and gives them antibodies and energy which enable them to get up and find mom's teat. This must be done soon, as the lining of the lamb's belly has receptors that absorb the colostrum with decreasing efficiency over 24 hours.

Perhaps Myrna would have come to terms with her babies and the mothering instincts would have clicked. I just got there too late!

99% of the time lambing goes just fine and I come home to find healthy little ones tottering around their mother...