A Few Derby Farm Lamb Pictures (As Promised)

Here are a few photos of the five lambs we have so far on

The Derby Farm

This little lamb has a crooked tail.
(She will eventually have to loose it, but in the mean time, it is so cute!)

The Two Sets of Spring Lamb Twins.

I am enjoying raising these lambs.
Each day I feel so blessed to live here, on this property,
 in Sonoma County on
The Derby Farm.

A Turn for the Worse

Sheila does not feel well.

It happened so fast, and has consumed much of my time.  I have been brought to tears and to exhaustion, and as yet, still don't know if my efforts will pay off. I hope and pray that it does.  

Crying back to her lambs because of being separated.

Last Friday morning, when I went to feed the sheep, the ravenous eater was not at the feeder. Sheila, my most affectionate (and favorite sheep) was not feeling well.  While the others were biting at the hay, she stood with her head low (when there wasn't any food).  Something is not right.  I went inside the pen for a closer look.  The thing I noticed was that she appeared to have trouble breathing.  I called Dan, my friend and help on The Derby Farm, and asked if he could bring his truck over.  I think I need to get her to the vet.  Rousing himself out of his warm house into the cold morning didn't bother him at all.  He rushed as best he could, even stopping to get a cage and ramp to get her into his truck.  We had to push her to get her to walk, but got her up into the truck, leaving her wailing twins behind. I thought she might have mastitis.


Dr. Wirz checked her temperature.  She had one alright.  Checked her lungs, her milk, and for worms. The test came back positive for worms.  Treatment was to give her an intravenous antibiotic, a shot to bring down her temperature, and to de-worm her.  The milk did look white and fine at this point, although only one tit was in working order, and on that one tit was a huge bloody sore. (I'll get to that later. I think I figured this whole thing out.) At this point, he thought she only had pneumonia because her milk was fine. I was to give her another shot for her fever Friday night when I got home from work, and twice for the next two days. Plus, I was to give her another dose of antibiotic on Sunday.  Thought it was best to separate her while she was not feeling well, so Sheila went into a jug with her twins.

Hard udder with mastitis

By Saturday morning, things had gotten worse.  Her udder was engorged, slightly blue, and hot. I knew it! She does have mastitis!  But just yesterday her milk was fine.  Maybe the infection spread because of the pneumonia. The lambs were still trying to nurse, and that didn't seem good. (Remember, I am new to this, learning as I go along.) So, I went into the jug and milked her a bit.  Yucky red watery stuff came out.  Okay, what do I do?  I still have a few shots to get her fever down, and one more dose of antibiotic.Then, I wait it out until Monday, when I head back to the vet with the new symptoms and lots of questions.

Esther cornering the lambs to see if they'll take a bottle

It is Wednesday now, and I have been keeping up with taking care of Sheila by trying to eek out as much of the bad stuff from her udder as she'll allow.  I gave her *amoxicillin squeezed right inside her little tiny tit opening, and I have had to separate her lambs from her.  The good news is that since the lambs are 5 weeks old, and already eating hay, pasture, and a bit of oats, they should be okay.  Although, the vet wants me to try to bottle feed them a bit of formula twice a day so that they don't loose too much weight.  Sheila is in pain and uncomfortable.  But, she is eating again.  I think she might be feeling a wee bit better.  Plus, she doesn't have the lambs to worry about any more.

Sheila's twins want to be near her, but are doing fine without her.

Many farmers would do what they call "cull" her.  Send her out to the back pasture and let nature takes its course.  Once her udder dies, she is not good for having lambs anymore, and so she is a liability. But, I am attached to Sheila. She is a beautiful and friendly sheep, and I want to save her.  She is worth all the effort.  While I have been sitting on top of my white plastic bucket in the middle of her jug putting in a lot of effort to massaging her udder with bag balm and milking her, I have gotten to thinking.  Not very much liquid comes out when I milk her. Her lambs chew on the rubber nipples to get the milk out.  I wonder...perhaps they have been having trouble sucking milk out of her udder, so have bitten her tit. So, there is the bloody sore on it.  Hence, bacteria could have gotten in to her through her sore and into the udder causing the mastitis.  A seasoned farmer might have seen this coming sooner.  But now I know what to look for, and hopefully it won't happen again.

Starting to feel better. Hope she makes it!

Next blog I'll post more pictures of the lambs and try to get a video of them.  I'll also give an update on Sheila and the two other pregnant sheep on The Derby Farm.


* Funny coincidence: I am on amoxicillin, too.

It Happened Again!

Yet another lamb took me by surprise.  Fiona wasn't as fat as Daphne or Sheila.  Her udder didn't look as full. She was eating with the others. The only clue, which of course, I missed, was that when I went to round of up the sheep to get them into the barn pen for the night, and I couldn't find Fiona. Turns out, she was already in the barn, and by herself. Since I didn't think she was due to have a lamb any time soon, I didn't think any more about the fact that she was the only ewe in the barn. Until the next morning, when it all made sense.  


Wednesday morning, I put on my red boots, my hat, my yellow jacket, my gloves, and headed out for what I thought was going to be a routine feeding of the animals, my farm dog Max at my side.  Max was running around like a crazy dog. He loves the cold mornings when I let him accompany me. He stops and waits for me by the duck and chicken coop, hoping I'll give him a treat of a duck egg.  So, I took my time getting to the sheep, and fed the poultry animals first so that Max could have his egg.  The sheep were impatient and making quite a few noises waiting for their hay.
"Okay, Okay, I'm coming." (I am always talking to the animals.) Grabbing a few flakes of hay, I went over to the feeder, split up the flakes, and saw all seven heads of the ewes, the two older lambs pushing their faces into where they could to get at the food, and the two little lambs curled up on the ground behind the others. All accounted for.  I casually unlatched the gate to let myself into the pen so that I could let them out into the front pasture to graze when they had had enough of the alfalfa. This was all very routine.  Then, I walked into the barn, and Voila! A lamb I had never seen before. All alone. But where was the mama? 

Fiona And Her New Lamb

Obviously, after giving birth, she was hungry!  Which sheep was it?  That became very obvious as I turned around and spotted some red on the back of Fiona.  I worried that because she left her new born of merely a few hours, she may not be a good mother.  Didn't have worried.  As soon as I picked up the lamb to move it to the jug (pen), she heard the wee cry of her lamb and followed me. I Closed the wooden pallet gate behind her. That went smoothly.  Fresh water was needed for her, and her own half of a flake of food was delivered to her promptly. Mama and lamb are closed inside a jug together, bonding.  So far, nursing seems to be going fine.  We'll see if the little, new, ewe lamb makes it through the night.


I am so glad that just the day before I had laid fresh wheat straw in the barn. There was a bit of a (bloody) mess for me to clean from the recently laid straw.  Neither of the three ewes before had had much blood. So, this was something new. 
Now, I am not so sure what to expect from the other pregnant ewes! So far, each one has been a different experience. I have no idea who is next. Earnestine? Jackie? I don't even know if 
Ol' Brownie is pregnant.  She's always fat and hungry with a droopy udder, but so cute. Next blog post I'll put up some more recent pictures of the other 4 lambs who are doing well on The Derby Farm.

They're Here! Daphne's Lambs Have Arrived!

Arriving home at 10:00pm on a rainy Thursday night, I decided to put the sheep to bed (which means closing them in the barn pen) before I put away the few groceries I had.  My red rubber boots were on, my brown fake Akubra was donned, but I had not put on my yellow rain gear. It was just a quick closing of a gate.  As I approached the barn, I could hear sheep grunts sporadically filling the air.  I flipped on the barn light switch as I peeked in, and there was Daphne in the jug (pen) where Sheila had had her two lambs.  I quickly closed her in because I could see two hooves hanging out her back side.  I wasn't going to miss this! 

(I chose not to insert a picture of this here.)


I traipsed back toward the house through the bog and mud that is our front yard, and this time suited up in my full suit. I pulled on my yellow rain pants and jacket, only to remember that I was very hungry.  I had better eat first. It could be a long night. Doug plated me up a bowl of curry, and I sat in the warm kitchen in my suit that smelled of sheep, wearing my hat, and eating as quickly as I could.  Thanked him for serving me, grabbed the camera, and headed back out into the rain on my way to see new life on its way.


By the time I got back to the barn, there hadn't been much advancement on the lamb's part. Daphne was still standing and pacing in the jug. Sheila was in the barn with her two lambs wanting to lie and rest for the night, but wasn't sure what I was doing there with them. The other sheep stayed out in the rain or just under the over-hang of the barn wondering what was my place out there in the night with them. Sensing this, I flipped a large black feeding bucket over and promptly made my place the top of the bucket. I sat down and didn't move very much so that the sheep, including Daphne, would settle down.  Eventually, Fiona came inside and sat down to chew her cud joining  Sheila and the lambs.  The lambs decided I wasn't much of a bother so they snuggled down together with their mama. 


The sound of a sheep in labor was backed by the almost deafening croaking of  hundreds of frogs who have made their home in the seasonal rain pond in the front pasture.  When I talked to Daphne to try to soother her, the frogs were so loud I practically had to raise my voice which probably wasn't very soothing.  So, I softly started to sing a song that starts, "It is truly meet..." Except for the occasional croaking, the frog orchestra ceased while I sang.  A 1/2 minute after I stopped singing, the frogs took up their chorus again.  I sat on my bucket stool listening to frogs, sheep groans, and Sheila snoring.  A sheep that snores! That made me smile.


About midnight, Daphne decided it was time to lie down and start pushing!  She would find a spot, push a few times, get up find a more comfortable spot and push again. Every time she got up, the lamb would slip  back in a bit. At one point, though, I could not only see the two hooves, but the nose and the tongue hanging out.  I would like to take the opportunity to say that I tried to photograph this. But, as can happen, the  battery on my camera needed charging. What is great about this? I was forced into watching and entering into every moment of the birth with my eyes and not behind a lens.


Once Daphne pushed hard enough to get that head out, half the body came out, too, and the lamb started wriggling out of its watery cocoon and taking breaths. She then expelled the rest of the lamb, stood up and immediately started licking it off.  This took place about 12:38am. As she was licking her newborn lamb, she rotated around a bit in the jug and exposed her backside to me. There was another set of hooves peeking out! I thought she might just have this one standing up because she was so busy caring for the first lamb.   In between licks she pushed, labored a bit, and a nose pushed its way out.  It is now 1:15am. Having experienced this already once this evening, she found a comfortable spot, lied down, raised her head in the air, and pushed. Voila! Lamb two!  1:26am. Right away I could see that this second lamb was smaller than the first. D1, for Daphne, Lamb1, (you don't name the lambs by the way) was bigger and darker.  Not dark black like the premature one we lost, but not as light as Sheila's two are. D1 is a ram. D2 is white with a black head, and spots which will probably fade over time.  Once the wool comes in on all the lambs they could all end up various shades of white and black.
Immediately, Daphne licked D2 clean like D1 while D1 tried to find the nipple to nurse.  After watching the mama care for the lambs for at least another half hour, I thought it best for every one out there, that I go in.

This experience was worth losing sleep over.  I can see how some people get "birth" addicted whether it is observing animals or new human beings coming into the world.  Seeing a creature's first breath and conscientiousness is all very normal, grounded, earthy, real, and special.  Each creation born is a unique entity, and yet birth happens all around us. At this birth, I was merely an observer. Things went well.  I feel it best to be hands-off with the ewes during their lambing, unless necessary. And I hope that if it does happen, and I need to help, I will recognize that I need to help, now that I have witnessed an eventful yet uneventful lambing.  


We have 13 sheep now, four of them lambs. Wonder how many more? The lambing season is in full swing here. There are still three more pregnant ewes to give birth on The Derby Farm.

The Wizard of The Derby Farm

As we wait, not so patiently, for Daphne to have those lambs, I thought I'd introduce another animal that we have on The Derby Farm.  He is almost 8 years old and older than our dog Max. (We have had him for longer than Max, too.) Gray fur covers his little body. So soft to pet is he.  His name is Gandalf the Gray Bunny.  Such a good little rabbit. Doesn't quite get as much attention as he should, but he does get several apple peelings or carrots, some fresh alfalfa or dandelion greens each day.  

Gandalf the Gray Bunny

Because he is boxed trained, Gandalf can live in a cage on our front porch by the front dining room window.  We can peek out and watch him chewing up his cardboard wine box, pushing it around his cage, getting it just so, so he can crawl inside and hide.
Getting to run around the house for a little while is something Gandalf loves.  Max, on the other hand, puts up with it.  Gandalf was here before Max, so even though Max could swallow Gandalf in a few bites, Max backs up whenever Gandalf gets near to him. It is entertaining to watch.  A giant black dog making way for a little gray rabbit.  
We call him gray, but his breed is American  Polish Dwarf, and the official color is blue. As common to his breed, Gandalf is calm and friendly.  When we go out to give him a treat, we make a certain clicking sound with our mouth, and he comes over quickly.  He has outlived the usual life span for his breed, and doesn't show any signs of slowing down.  Maybe he really is a wizard!
At one time, I thought we should give him away because things have gotten so busy for us. But, I can't image Gandalf the Gray Bunny living any where else except on The Derby Farm.

Golf Mystery on The Derby Farm

It wasn't Connor.  It certainly wasn't James.  Doug didn't do it. So who?  Who has been driving golf balls in the front pasture? While the sheep have been grazing on the front lawn (leaving their mushy sheep dung every where to step in, by the way) I thought this an opportune time to throw rye seed out onto their pasture for a little extra nutrition later. I was carrying my handled pink bucket tossing out the seeds, when I came across something I'd never seen in the field before. A golf driver and two golf balls!   Of course, I immediately blamed my 14 year old son.  No one else in my family would leave a perfectly good golf club out in the elements.  I called him on my cell phone to come out here right now and pick it up.  Connor had no idea what I was talking about.  James wouldn't dare to venture out where the sheep graze, and he doesn't golf.  So, I called Doug. Doug was as dumb founded as I was about the find.

So who did it?  Perhaps whoever the golfer is has figured out when we are home or not.  We don't park the cars in the garage, so it is not hard to figure out. But, we are home most of the time!  (Just because the cars aren't there doesn't mean someone isn't home.) Maybe it's a Sunday morning golfer.  Who ever it is, must have been scared off by something to leave a perfectly good driver in the field. How did they flee? Unless they came through the front gate in the barn pen, they would have to hop the fence which isn't easy.   I couldn't see where they had gotten in. Certainly not through the ram's pasture.  I don't like this mystery!


This means someone is watching us, and knows our comings and goings to feel free enough to casually play golf on our property.  They must feel comfortable enough with sheep to pull this off. Although, since the sheep have mowed down the front pasture quite nicely, I can see that it might be tempting for someone to want to golf out there.  Think I had better post private property KEEP OUT signs now.  Seems pretty obvious, though, that a sheep grazing field surrounded by fences near a house is private property.  And, can't help feeling a little violated.  Some one has trespassed on our property again. Of course, playing golf is not as bad as stealing my mother's silver, but it still feels bad.  What else has been done here that we don't know about or haven't noticed on The Derby Farm?

Dragon Shadow

Under the shadow of the dragon, they ran. A natural instinct it must be.  Sheep are supposed to run from dragons or be eaten by them! 
The winter wind on a sunny day called to Connor to come fly a kite.  Up to the highest height. Let's go fly a kite and send it soaring. Up through the atmosphere, up where the air is clear, oh let's go...(sing along!) Fly a kite! (Thanks, Mary Poppins.) We have two kites, at least we used to. A pirate ship and a dragon.  The dragon kite was the most accessible, so up in the air it went.  Not one consideration went to the sheep.  They had their faces down in the grass.

We've been using them as lawn mowers lately to get the grass under control in the front yard.  Using a portable net fence we move them around to chomp down the grass. So, about the time Connor decided to fly a kite, they were quite near to the house in the front yard.  They were grazing away as we tried to get the kite up into the wind. No reaction on their part. But as soon as we got that kite up high and over them, they ran as fast as they could back into the barn pen and around the corner where it was safe from the mean, flying dragon that might eat them. As long as we kept the kite up flying, the sheep were not coming back to graze in the front yard.  But, we were able to easily draw them back by dangling some fresh grass for them. We got their attention on food. How soon they forgot their fear. 

Were they really afraid of the dragon shadow? Or was it the rustling noise the kite made in the wind? Or something out of their normal realm of experience? Maybe it was all of the reasons.  No matter. The fear was forgotten quickly when they focused on something else. Are we able to do that? Can we simply forget something that we have been afraid of  like that?  Distractions are a powerful thing. They often pull us away from a purpose or goal.  But, perhaps not all distractions are bad? What about the ones that direct our attention away from fear to something better and healthier.  If we live in fear, we might not ever venture out to the front yard again to discover love, and wonder, friendships, and new goals.  

If it is a windy day again soon, I know that Connor will  want to get that dragon out again, and fly it over the sheep.  Will they be afraid again? Or keep their heads down clipping away at the grass on The Derby Farm.

Tail Docking. What's Up?

Lambs with banded tail method of docking

To tail dock or not to tail dock. That is the question I pondered, and have come up with an answer. First of all, did you know that sheep have tails?  Many Americans do not know this because almost every sheep that you see has its tail docked. (Except the flock of neglected sheep down the street from us.)  Many Europeans do not dock tails, so what's the big deal?  Shouldn't we keep it natural and let the lambs keep their tail?  They look so cute having a tail bobbing behind them as they bounce through the pasture. Shouldn't  they be kept "natural?" 
Sheep today are nothing like their wild predecessors. They have been domesticated for thousands of years and rely on the shepherd to take care of them for their well being.  The "natural" thing to do is to take good care of them. And, lambs are not so cute when dung gets attached them.
In Australia, there is a slang word for an unfashionable person who is socially inept (but amusing.) This word is dag. A dag is literally a "dung-caked lock of wool from the hind quarters of a sheep." This is not a pretty sight! Nor is it healthy for a lamb who has a tail. 
With in the first few weeks of its life, a lamb may have droppings that are anything but dry.  The dung attaches itself to the tail.  Flies will come and lay eggs in the dung. Maggots will hatch out and eat the dung. After they have eaten the dung, they will go after the lamb.  This is very uncomfortable for the poor lamb, and I won't go into what can happen after that. 
So, I have docked the first two lambs tails using the band method because it is the equipment that came with the flock, and appears to be what most Sonoma County sheep farmers use. Castrating the ram lamb is another issue.  I think I was supposed to do that no later than three days old, and I didn't do it. I didn't recall that from all my reading, and I don't remember anyone explaining the necessity to castrate to me. Uh-oh. Hope we don't have any problems because of  an uncastrated ram lamb on The Derby Farm.