dancing with scapulars: lambing in the winter

Meet the twin boys. Born January 31st, 2019

These little guys were expected. Their momma, Cherry, is mother to our Cici born last winter. She was clearly carrying more than one lamb, and we anxiously awaited their birth. Cherry, an experienced mother, didn't need any help her babies to feed and walk. They were bouncing around within minutes. One little guy needed a little extra cleaning, but other than that, no human intervention was necessary or offered.

They were out and about within twenty-four hours.

This little girl is another story.

February 11th, while Harmony was getting into bed after midnight, she heard our one-year-old Cici crying out from the barn. Checking on her, she found a hungry wee lamb in the corner of the barn, and a confused Momma Cici wandering loudly about. I received a text from the barn requesting back up. After sizing up the situation, which included one young inexperienced sheep mother and a little smaller than average baby girl who couldn't find milk, I went to the kitchen and made a bottle of colostrum. Yes, we actually had lamb colostrum in our pantry. The next couple of hours included a few ounces of bottle milk, as well as a forced nursing session with the mama. It also included me catching a confused, tired, and very strong sheep and holding her still while my daughter cut away excess wool from around the udders so our new lamb could reach her tiny mouth around the milk supply. What you see here are photos of happy healthy lambs and their content mothers. What you don't see are photos of me in my flannel pajamas grabbing hold of a frightened 130 pound ewe and holding her while someone comes at her underside with scissors. Nor will you see photos of that same 130 pound ewe butting me in the ribs, just enough to let me know she was not happy being held. (I am forever thankful that this particular ewe knows and likes me and was merely letting me know she was not comfortable; therefore I have no broken ribs)

After making the milk more accessible, Harmony was able to hold Cici still enough my little man to hold the lamb and direct her to her mama's milk. The shepherds made this a daily practice throughout the following week or so, until our little Dido learned to nurse on her own.
For a few feedings a day, while Harmony the shepherdess was at school, the younger children would take a bottle of milk to the pasture to feed Dido the lamb. She knew them by sight, and the bottle by smell and would run to meet them. Their job was to try to feed her close to her mother's side so that each sheep would get the idea that feeding is related to the mama. In the morning before school, and in the evening after, Harmony would hold Cici still for Dido to nurse. After a few weeks of this, mamm and lamb finally found their own routine and neither bottle nor ewe catching was necessary.

A well established nursing routine after a week.

proud papa, scratching his itch

Meet Banana. (we didn't name her; she came with the name) This is her leggy son born without any aid needed. This is a blessing because Banana lets no human get near her, unless the human has alfalfa or clover in his hand. Any attempted nursing help with this ewe would definitely resulted in a broken rib for this human.