Lamb Update: The Good News and the Bad News

Good news first.

The very next morning after the iffy lamb was born to Jackie, my husband decided to let me sleep in until 7:15 or so.  Just enough sleep in time to have missed Earnestine having her lamb. Oh, well.  I got there shortly after the fact. When I arrived she was vigorously licking him off. Everything went fine, and continues to be fine.  I picked up the little ram, and waved him in front of his mama's nose so that she'd follow me in to the barn.  It was a cold morning.  The lamb needed the protection, plus mama and lamb needed bonding time. In the barn now, I had Earnestine in one jug, and Jackie with her weak, barely able to stand, lamb in the other jug.

Several times a day I would visit Jackie's lamb and try to get it to nurse.  It just couldn't do it.  I eventually gave it some formula, but it still needed to get the colostrum. The farmer in me really came out as I grabbed that little head, pried open the mouth, and stuck a warm sheep tit into its mouth.  But once it got there, the lamb didn't really want to stuck on it.  I tried to shoot the warm liquid into its mouth. I tried to milk Jackie (which she didn't like) thinking I'd put her milk into a bottle and feed the lamb that way.  No way was Jackie going to let me do that.  She would only stop moving after she smelled her lamb making sure it was her lamb at her udder, not my hand.  All the while the lamb's breathing was getting weaker and it had no interest in trying to stand up.
Earnestine's lamb was standing immediately, and nursing fine.  So, most of my attention could be paid to trying to get this weaker one to live.

Jackie and her lamb

Finally by the third day, which was Sunday, the little lamb was beyond saving. I had put as much effort as I could into saving it. It was lying flat on the hay in the jug, but still breathing.  .Not wanting it to be left for dead, I decided I would hold it for a little while.  What followed was a special moment with Jackie, the mama.


Near the aviary was a green plastic deck chair.  I would take the lamb with me and go and sit there while watching the sheep graze in the yard. When I picked up the near dead lamb, I let Jackie out of her jug so that she she could graze with the other sheep, too.  She was penned up for  a few days.  I had been sitting in the chair awhile, holding the lamb in my lap, when Jackie came over to me.  She smelled her lamb.  I looked down at the lamb, and she went head to head with me.  Not in a rough way as sheep are known to do, but a sweet way.  This gesture made me start to cry.  She stayed head to head with me as I cried.  I reached up with my hand, and she let me stroke her cheek.  Then, she took another smell of her lamb, and went back to grazing.  Tears warmed my own cheeks.  


Perhaps, I had better lay down the lamb, and let it die peacefully.  This is what I decided to do.  Back to the jug I went, laid it carefully on the hay, and closed the gate so that it would be alone in the jug. This way, the other lambs won't be able to bother it.  Good night sweet lamb.  

Brownie now looks fatter than she did in this picture.

Out of 8 lambs born alive, 6 have survived.  I am told that is good odds, especially for your first year of lamb farming.  It doesn't make it any easier when you loose one, though.  That one is still precious. (Okay, truthfully, the business side of me also says that it is precious money lost.) Plus, I am not convinced that this is the last of the lambs to be born this year.  Maybe Brownie is pregnant.  But, the former owner has informed me that it was a rough labor for Brownie last year, but she produced a very large lamb.  In the mean time, the 6 lambs that we do have are doing well on The Derby Farm.