Another lamb

Went out for the morning feeding. Did the head count and came up short a sheep. She wasn't very far away. She was standing in the pasture hovering over a large, still, white blob.

I winced and felt sick to my stomach. Really, I told myself, you need to get out of this shepherding business, too much death, you can't take it. I moved closer to remove the dead lamb from the pasture, chastising myself for staying in bed fifteen minutes too long and not being there to help in the birthing. If the Husband hadn't have been up late watching Brokeback Mountain, I would have been up earlier. I had already seen the movie, and only stayed awake to watch the sheep herding scenes at the beginning of the movie --- but I didn't really get to sleep until the Husband finished watching the movie.

As I approached the sheep, to my great surprise and relief, I saw that the lamb's rib cage was moving up and down. I stood over the lamb. The mother had cleaned it off. It was a male. Drat! I have to try and save him, invest myself emotionally in him, only to send him to the butcher. His legs appeared all twisted. One even looked as if it was broken. What a mess. I picked him up. He had life in him but he was not as vigorous as yesterday's lamb.

I put him down on the ground and he struggled to his feet and stood there wobbling, straining forward to get his mother's attention. I guess his legs were working properly. They were just extremely pliable since he was only a few minutes out of the womb.

His mother approached and licked him some more then butted him, albiet gently, back to the wet ground. This wasn't good. He wasn't being encouraged to stand up.

By this time the flock had gathered round, and everyone wanted to check out the new lamb. The new mother didn't like this so I left mother and lamb behind so I could lead everyone back to a small pasture where I closed the gate on them and gave them some grain to shut them up.

I took the dogs back to the house to lock in the kitchen. I needed to put the new mother and the lamb in the big barn and there's no way the mother would go if the dogs were around. Told the Husband we had a new addition. He came outside to see the lamb.

"He's got better markings than Lambchop," the Husband correctly observed. "Maybe we could keep this one, and get rid of Lambchop."

I nodded. Feeling sad that I had to make these Sophie's Choices. I don't like deciding who lives and who dies. That's why no one has been sent to the butcher. I can't make such a decision. The butcher just needs to come in the middle of the night, take who he wants when I'm asleep and mail me a check.

I'm sure that's what God does. He doesn't decide who lives or dies. He lets the Grim Reaper do the picking.

Furthermore, I had just resigned myself to the fact that this one was going to the butcher -- no matter how damn cute he is -- and then the Husband destroys my resolve by saying we could keep this one. I guess he said "maybe" but a "maybe" from the Husband is as good as an "it's for certain" in my book.

The Husband and I took the mother and the lamb into the barn, or the maternite as neighbor Therese called it when she came over to see the lambs. Soixante-Douze was not happy to have another sheep and lamb show up. She herded her lamb into the opposite corner and scowled. (Later, when the new one's mother went to eat some hay, she scurried over to the lamb and butted him over onto his side.)

Soixante-Douze's lamb is doing great today. She's very lively and loud. Can't tell if she's nursing. She appears to know where the teat is, bangs the bag, but never seems to get her mouth on the teat. So I supplement her with lamb formula. I'm doing the same thing with the new lamb. His mother's still butting him away.

The Husband held both mothers against the wall while I held their respective lambs up to feed. Stresses out the mother, but I have to make sure the lambs are nursing. In the case of Soixante-Douze, I think we finally have things working right.

With today's lamb, I last saw him walking back under his mother, positioning himself under her bag, putting his little mouth on her teat, and then she pushed him down to the floor. The Husband will be called to sheep holding duty soon to make sure the lamb gets an evening feeding.