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.

Another Lamb, But it looks kind of iffy...

Right out in the field!

I only left for an hour. Do you think she could have waited? No. Jackie decided to have her lambs in the pasture while I was with James at his Highland dance class.  I say lambs, because there were two, but one did not make it. Wish I knew why it wasn't breathing or moving or even warm when I found it lying on the grass.  Jackie was still trying to lick it clean even though there was no life left.  She would go back and forth between licking the alive one and the not alive one. Right away, I knew I had to get mama and baby into the barn, and into the jug that I had just laid fresh hay in earlier.  Even though it was a beautiful, sunny Sonoma County day, a cool breeze was coming up promising to be a lower thirties kind of night.  
I picked up the still wet lamb and walk toward the barn thinking Jackie would follow me.  But, there were two lambs.  So instead of following me, she stayed where she was trying to get the first lamb to move, all the while walking around confused as to where her other lamb had gotten to.  It took me picking up the lifeless lamb and hiding it, before she would head into the barn, following me while I was holding the lamb that still had life. Okay, got them in. Now what?

My helpful husband with his tools.

My supportive husband, Doug, knew his part in this already.  Digging the grave.  We have had to do that several times so far on The Derby Farm.  Without my asking him, he went and got on his boots, grabbed the shovel, the wheel barrow, and the lime, and headed out to the lamb graveyard we have going in the 'oak tree yard' part of our property.  He tended to his work of digging, while I tended to the animals in the barn.
The newest lamb in the barn has shone no interest in getting up.  No interest in nursing. It appears to be very weak.  Jackie is attentive, though, and continues to clean it off.  The best thing is to let them be for awhile, I think. Besides, it is getting very cold outside, and I need more layers as well as dinner.

The heat lamp is on.  We'll see if it helps.

When I am properly layered, I head back outside with a bottle of lamb formula just in case.  My thinking is that if she is too weak to stand, maybe a little warm milk will give her some energy so she'll try to nurse later.  There were sucking sounds and milk disappearing, so she must be getting some sustenance. But it is cold out here.  I can't lock them inside by themselves, then the other lambs will get cold.  There is no way to get the whole rest of the flock locked in the barn either. A heat lamp!  As much as I really don't want to use one, to get this little lambie through the night, I think I had better do it. The scary thing is the chance of fire in the barn with all the dried hay around.
Got the heat lamp plugged in and in a safe spot.  Got her to nurse one little sip before she collapsed back onto the hay.  Not much more that I can do out here tonight.  As I was preparing to leave the barn, really hoping that the heat lamp would (won't) start a fire, I look across in the dark night and see a fire!  On the other side of the trail that runs behind the back of our house, but further up, there is definitely something going up in flames. Not sure if it is a house or trees.  Sirens blare in the cold night, but no sign of any fire trucks yet.  This made me second guess and double check the heat lamp, but I am still worried.  Worried about the lamb surviving the night, and worried that there could be a fire here.  
As I sit writing this blog, they have put out the neighboring fire. The fire in our wood burning stove has gone out, and I need to get to bed.  This lambing thing is tough.  Tough work and tough emotionally.  I have to be tough inside, and yet still compassionate.  Always a balance.  Balance is tough, too.

This is Jackie because she has a 21 on the tag in her ear.

I'll let you know more if the newest little lamb makes it through the night on The Derby Farm. 

In Case You Were Wondering...Looks Like She'll Make it

Sheila, the affectionate sheep

Sheila is out of her solitary confinement now, mostly.  I knew that she was feeling better when I heard all sorts of sounds coming out of the barn. (By the way, our barn is really a converted shed as you can see from the photo.  But, it works as a barn for me!) This friendly sheep has a very raspy, breathy baa.  Also, there was the sound of hooves knocking on wood as she tried to climb her way out of the jug.   From the sounds, movement, and her appetite, I decided to move her  out of the barn, not reintroduced her back into the flock  just yet. Next to the barn pen, there is a small fenced off area with a lean-to and some grass.  So, Sheila is next to the flock, and can see her lambs.  But until her udder heals up a bit more from the mastitis, I think it is a good idea to keep her separate a bit longer.  

The ram and ewe  that are her lambs sometimes hang out next to her on the other side of the fence.  I am still bottle feeding those lambs twice a day, to make sure they don't loose too much weight from being weaned so early.  The ram lamb is getting a bit aggressive about it.  While I am trying to feed his sister, he nibbles at my clothes or nudges the bottle.  When I walk into the pen, he smells me to see if I brought any liquid sustenance for him. So, I have to feed him first.  He really sucks it down.  Sister is still not convinced that she wants this milk that isn't mom, and like to chew on the black rubber nipple with her tiny sharp teeth.  She does get some of it down her if brother leaves her any.

Even though Sheila gets plenty to eat, all day we hear her soft baaa!  Let me out!!! Her lambs will often answer back.  Other times, they are fine grazing in the front pasture. Not sure what would happen to her relationship with the lambs when I do reintroduce her back into the flock.  Better make sure she isn't contagious first, because I don't want to jeopardize the other ewes and lambs.  So, right now, Sheila stays where she is.  Alive and doing better on The Derby Farm.

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.

Daphne's Due!

The tiny rip in her ear lets me know this is Daphne

Yet another sheep about to give birth. March 1st marks the 145 day since I saw Sean and Daphne do a little dance.  He was leading of course, after a little leading-on of  him around the pasture.  She wasn't going to be gotten too easily!  But, you could tell she wanted to dance. Around the side of the barn, under the shed of the tin roof, they made what is about to be two lambs.  I think it's twins. Daphne looks evenly round on both sides.    As I was observing her today, I saw a very strong kick from her side.   Won't be long now, and we'll have more lambies running around.

The udder is starting to get full

Just in case Daphne, or any of the others, decide to plop out their young ones behind the barn as Bess did, I have been going out every night and closing them in the barn pen.  I make them think that I am going to give them food in the feeder, so they follow me over to look at it.  Then, I dash back and bungee cord the gate closed. Plus, in case of predators, I think they are safer in the pen as a herd.  Closing them in at night also makes sure that Sheila gets her lambs into the shelter of the barn. Of course, they are up much sooner than I am, and would prefer to be out grazing already by the time I venture out the door. So, they don't prefer this arrangement. But, I feel much better about knowing the sheep are a bit more safe at night on The Derby Farm.

A Type of Farmer Sadness

Part of being a farmer, I guess. Birthing animals, and loosing them.  I do raise the lambs for meat, but it is still hard when you loose one as a newborn. The cute little premature black sheep didn't make it through the night.  We have had quite a few warm days here in Sonoma County for February, then last night's temperature got down below freezing.  Guess it was all too much for him.
His mama, Bess, is the oldest of the ewes, and was not showing signs of being a good mother. She would often kick him when he tried to nurse. (Not all the time.) When he called for her, she didn't bleat back.  (Her barn mate Sheila did, just as she does for her lambs.) Several times, I had to guide him to her nipple.  I have never milked a sheep before, but I have a goat when I was younger.  The udders look the same. So, I grab the nipple pulled on it until it squirted a bit, and stuck it in his mouth. He sucked happily, but then had trouble finding the nipple again. He seemed to be getting liquid. If he didn't look better by today, I thought I might have to bottle feed him.  (Which I have no idea how to accomplish.) Well, I didn't have to do that. As sad as I am, I am seeing this is a blessing.  It is probably quite a bit of work hand feeding a lamb; keeping up with its needs, plus my other responsibilities and schedule.

Maybe a more experienced farmer would have seen something right away that I didn't know was abnormal, and know what to do in order to save the little black one. All the books I have read didn't prepare me for this, I feel.  I have to learn it by living it.  I ask questions of other farmers as well as continue to look at written resources, but experiencing farm life is how I am learning. 
Hopefully, I won't loose any more lambs.  But, we'll see. There are 4 more pregnant sheep on The Derby farm.

What?! Another One Already!

A dark lamb I'd never seen before just showed up in the pasture!  Luckily, not too far from the barn, and luckily I got there soon after it was born.  But, who was its mama?  I wasn't expecting any of the other ewes to be in labor for a while. The day before, I did notice that Queen Bess, the oldest of the sheep, had a full udder.  Hmm, maybe she is pregnant after all.  Didn't expect a baby the next day!  You see, when I got Bess in June, her udder was already hanging low, and she always appeared a bit fat.  (She hid her pregnancy well.) It is a good thing I was headed out to the sheep anyway, because he was caught behind a wire.  As soon as I hoisted him up and started to carry him into the barn, Bess came from around the back of the barn where she had obviously decided to plop him out into the dirt. He was covered with dirt and sheep poop, but not blood.  So I dusted him off a bit and shut him up in the other jug with Bess.  She did start to lick him a little, but not to the extent that Sheila had done with her twins.  This is the gross part.  You can skip this next paragraph if you want.

Bess appeared to still be in labour. Something bloody was hanging out the back side of her. (Remember, this is my first lambing season, and I have no experience in this.) Wasn't quite sure what to do.  For over an hour, I waited with her.  Sometimes, she stood, sometimes she laid down. Then, I got to thinking.  The lamb came out fairly unbloodied.  There wasn't much of a mess behind the barn where she bore him. I think it is the placenta! While she was standing and pushing a bit, I, with surgical gloves on, grabbed the placenta and helped pull it out of her. She was a much happier sheep after that.  Some animals, sheep included, eat the placenta.  Bess was not interested. So, out in the corner of  unused pasture, went the placenta under a big rock.

Next big problem: he looks a little premie, and can't find the nipple.  Sucks everything around under Bess, except the nipple.  He even tried my red boot once.  I milked a goat a few times when I was younger.  So, I grabbed Bess's saggy udder and tit, and pulled.  When I finally got a bit of milk/colostrum going, I shoved him under her and had to place the nipple in his mouth and hold him there.  When he tried to nurse a few times, she would kick so he couldn't get much food..  I grab her back leg, shove him under her, and once he gets going sucking, and she stops kicking, I back away. This behavior has continued even until this morning.   Hope he gets enough in him and starts to put on weight.  I'll keep an eye on him.  So, now we have 3 lambs on The Derby Farm.

Max, The Duck Herder

Max, our Black Labrador Farm Dog

Every farm needs a farm dog.  Each morning when I go out to feed the animals, he is excited to join me. Of course, there is a reason.  Max is a labrador, after all, and very food motivated.  There are 5 ducks and 5 chickens on The Derby Farm, as well as the two peacocks.  In the mornings, I let them roam freely right outside the pen (not the peacocks of course.)  The chickens are busy away scratching in the dirt finding tasty bugs.  The ducks love to go out further into the tall, wet grass to seek out their sweet, buggy snacks. All the while Max is running around the back part of the field doing his business and snacking on sheep poop.  He leaves the bird alone, mostly.  But every now and then, I really need his help. 

The little black flock of waddlers likes to cross the driveway and check out the bugs over by the wood pile.  This is where the duck herding instinct happens for Max.  I call to him for his help, and Max comes running toward me, sees the ducks, and knows what he has to do. In through the ducks he bounds, chasing them back across the driveway toward the pen. Once I get the ducks and the chickens all back safely inside the coop, Max patiently sits right outside the coop door, waiting expectantly for his reward.  A duck egg!  He loves them. We have several laying ducks, so I don't mind sharing an egg for such a good and well behaved dog.  He doesn't care so about the sheep.  He goes nose to nose with them.  But, he is a duck dog, not really a sheep dog.  We are all so glad to have Max as a part of the family on The Derby Farm.

The Lambs are on the Loose!

Three days old, and in need of exercise. Think Sheila was about to go a bit stir crazy if she had to stay in the jug (pen) much longer. It is a beautiful Sonoma County day, so it seemed just the right conditions to let the lambs out into the pasture and let them meet the rest of the flock.  It is so pleasing to hear the little ones, and to watch the lambs run, jump, and prance all around the pasture, all the while sticking close to mama. If they get a little separated from her, they bleat loudly, and she answers them back. 

Earnestine, for no apparent reason, likes to butt the lambs down. (Last year, she was the ewe that rejected her lambs. Hope she is a better mom this year.) One time, I was feeding Sheila some grass so she was a bit distracted. Earnestine started to come over and harass the lambs. Guess Sheila wasn't too distracted. She immediately turned on Earnestine and rammed her head into her.  What a good protective mama!

Later, I will protect the mama and the babies from predators by putting them back into the jug for the evening with some fresh alfalfa hay.

I don't understand why Earnestine does this exactly.  She had better get used to the lambs though, because they are now part of the flock and more lambs are coming (including her own.) Maybe she is jealous?  Maybe she just likes things the way they are and doesn't want any changes to her world.  People can act this same way sometimes.  Instead of a physical ramming (unless you're a teenage boy), we usually lash out with words, and unloving actions. Too much of this kind behavior can really hurt another person as well as ourselves and our community. Hope Earnestine gets over it soon so there can be harmony on The Derby Farm.

Personalities are Starting!

Little pink nose

This lamb is only 48 hours old, and is already showing signs of personality. He is curious and is already interested in whatever mama is eating.  This is the lamb that within only a few hours after birth was already trying to fit through the slats on the jug (pen) gate. We'll have to keep an eye out for this one.  He may prove to be an escape artist! 

His sister is a bit more shy and tends to hide behind mama.  She is very interested in drinking milk, but sometimes ends up under mama in the wrong direction of the udder.  By the time she turns herself around, mama has already moved, and she has to find the milk again. 

Sheila is a good mama.  When I bring visitors to see them, she tries to stand in front of the lambs to protect them. When I go in, she doesn't do that. She knows me and trusts me as the shepherd. This is a wonderful experience.

I have so much to learn about their care from here. When do they get shots? How soon do we dock the tails? (Just read an article about how important that is.) When do we let them out of the jug to meet the rest of the flock on The Derby Farm?

After You Muck Out a Barn, What do you...

Do with the all muck? I have no idea. These are the sorts of things that I have to learn as a new farmer. Sheep poop mixed with hay must be good for something.  So, I have a new pile of sheep dung.  I probably need to dig a hole, and bury it, and then use it for compost. We'll see.  Right now, it's a pile. 

As I was mucking, I thought that I ought to muck out my house.  I have clutter.  The, I might need that someday, kind of clutter.  (I do have Scots blood in me, after all.) I also thought whether or not I needed to muck out my heart.  Here does all that kind of muck go? Questioning life's lessons while doing chores on The Derby Farm.

Two New Lambs!

Sheila and the new lambs.

That was unexpected!  Everything I have read said that before the ewe goes into labor, she'll go off her feed for a while, separate herself from the flock, and labor may last from 12 -24 hours. Didn't happen like that at all!  I went out Saturday morning to feed the animals a little later than I normally do.  Sheila was acting just as she always has.  She ate the alfalfa hay, then ate oats out of a pink bucket I held for her. No signs of labor. 

Twin lambs only a few hours old.

So, I decided that I would do a bit of yard work while my husband was outside doing chores, too.  We were taking near the sheep pen, when I started to count the sheep, something I do often.  I did not see Sheila, but instead heard a very tiny bleating sound from the barn.  I yelled, "we have lambs!"  Sure enough, I went into the barn, and Sheila had popped out two lambs!  Doug ran to get my camera for me (only to find I needed to charge the battery, of all times!) He then hen started taking camera phone pictures, and texting people like a proud grandfather.  Sheila was just finishing licking them clean by the time we discovered she had given birth to twins, a ram and a ewe. We got to watch one of the lambs stand for the very first time in order to find the mama's milk.  I didn't get to watch the birth, but there are still a few more sheep to go!  Maybe I'll get to see it, maybe not.  I am so glad that everything has gone so well, and that we have two new lambs on The Derby Farm.

Prodigal Peacocks

Hunger drives us to do things.  Sometimes good, sometimes not so good. There are different kinds of hunger, but it is the hunger of the stomach I am referring to.  Because of hunger, one is more apt to steal.  Because of hunger, one may tend to shove a smaller creature out of the way. Because of hunger, like the prodigal son, one can be driven towards home where the food is.

George has blue feathers on the neck, Victoria more green.

George, the peacock showing off his plumage.

Several weeks ago, we experienced a very windy and rainy storm.  The next morning the sun shone brightly through the clouds as I went about my chores of feeding the animals at the usual time. Sometime during the night, the bird coop door must have flung open because I found all the ducks and chickens enjoying wandering around freely on the grass.  My heart skipped a beat.  We have more than just ducks and chickens.  We also have George and Victoria, a peacock and peahen.  I searched inside the coop. Just as I feared, no sign of them.  
My heart sank. I was so disappointed. They were wild peacocks that we had caught at friend's house; I thought we would never see them again.  They were scared off by the storm, and were probably on their way to join a wild flock somewhere.  A neighbor had spotted them in his yard the next day, but didn't realize they were mine, so he didn't call.  Three days went by, and no sign of them.  So, I decided I would put a dish of egg crumple with cracked corn just outside the coop door, and see what would happen.  And sure enough! Hunger brought them home.  We were easily able to herd them back into the coop.  The prodigal peacocks have returned to The Derby Farm.