I did chores as usual this morning- I fed hay to the rams, bottle fed the two lambs, checked and changed everyone’s water…
But then I noticed that everything was too quiet. Our older bottle lamb,Steven was not baaing for the “cookie” he gets each morning . Usually, he would be insisting on my attention. The cookie has oats, cornmeal, molasses, salt and vegetable oil, so just a bit of extra energy so he won’t have to bad a setback from being weaned off milk.
Today, I found him lying down next to another lamb, looking poorly. When I got him up, he was lethargic and sad, with drooping ears and a sad posture. I’m thinking he has pneumonia and a touch of anemia – just too much stress from weaning.
I brought him in to the house, where he drearily half-followed me. Time for some penicillin, some Nutri-Drench, and a little TLC. I admit that I gave him a bit of milk, hoping that the hit of nutrients and hydration would offset the potential for an upset tummy. And he did perk up with the milk, but he certainly isn’t out of the woods.
So if you have a moment, please spare a thought for Steven. I think he will recover, but nothing is guaranteed. We are watching Great British Bake-Off and petting him on the couch.
Twenty of our thirty-three ewes have lambed so far at Cloverworks Farm. Thirty eight lambs have been born, with thirty six surviving. One loss was a little BFL ewe lamb who failed to nurse overnight with her mother. Another was 1627’s lamb, whom we had indoors and who just faded away, likely from pneumonia. Though some amount of loss is usual, I am still disappointed with my failure to keep these lambs alive. I’ve been intervening more since the first loss, feeling that I could have done more to warm and feed the lost lambs.
But the sad part aside, we have 34 healthy little lambs in the barn and two bouncy lambs in the house. Due to weather and mis-mothering, we have one lamb each from the recently-born triplets in our custody. With Steven Jr. weaned and on his own, we can deal with lambs in the house again. The lambs in the barn are happy and bouncy. Since the oldest lamb is now four months old, we have quite a range of sizes. Some of the youngest lambs still haven’t figured out how to home in on their mother, so I’ve been helping 123 find her mom, 264, often. All of the adults are struggling to tolerate the shear number of lambs who want to climb on their backs.
We are still waiting for the snow to melt and the pasture to start to green. Not much by way of spring weather yet, other than a few days with highs in the 40’s F.
A year ago, we had a fiasco where several sheep tested as positive or as exposed to CL: Caseous Lymphadenitis. We were never able to determine the source of the disease, but several good sheep went for meat in our effort to eradicate CL in our flock.
Last week, we received our test results back for CL, Ovine Progressive Pneumonia and Johnes (which is kind of like Tuberculosis in humans but not zoonotic). We are clear of all diseases! We have one ewe who came up as “suspect” for CL, (neither negative nor positive) so we are watching her with a gimlet eye. That said, I think we are in the clear, so I am now willing to consider selling rams for crossing purposes. So let me know if you would like one!
So, mismothering: On 3/31, ewe 1627 went into labor. Many ewes chase existing lambs thinking they’ve given birth, but 1627 somehow managed to convince one of 1606’s lambs that he was in fact hers. So when her real lamb was born, she had milk for one but a huge, hungry single to feed. 1627’s real lamb was hypothermic on Monday morning, and we’ve been trying to energize him ever since. He seems to brighten, only to stop eating and weaken again. I admit I am finding him rather frustrating! So we will end up raising him, even though his mother was willing to try, because she won’t give up her stolen lamb and there is only milk for one in her udder.
Midnight: Matt tells me that Chloe is starting labor – she has a bag protruding and is restlessly shifting. I set an alarm to wake up in 90 minutes.
1:44 – I can see on the Barn Cam that Chloe has birthed one black lamb. Out to the barn I go to find a large, handsome ram lamb. I set Chloe up with a pen, and I notice a foot sticking out of Chloe. Usually, lambs are born in a crouched position, front legs forward. The sole of this hoof was facing upward- clearly the hind leg of a lamb coming out backwards. Lambs can be born backwards, but it is usually smart to help; the umbilical cord will break before the lamb’s head is out, prompting the lamb to breathe. If the lamb tries to breathe while its head is still inside, it can drown. I locate the second leg and a thin white lamb slips right out. She coughs and splutters and finally manages a big inhale and a tiny “maaahhh.” I towel her and her brother off, as it’s quite chilly out and they can chill before they muster the energy to stand.
Back in the house, I set an alarm for 2 hours.
3:44 – Despite my hopes, the lambs have chilled and aren’t standing well. Chloe doesn’t look great herself, spending an unusual amount of time lying down. I focus on the lambs – I bring them in, mix them up some stored colostrum and give them a quick first meal to help them along. I’ve found that often, a little energy boost gives them what they need to stand up and learn to nurse. Failure to intervene would likely result in hypothermic or dead lambs in the morning. I warm the lambs by the fire and feed each one. Both respond well, and soon they have little coats on and are headed back to Mom. I know that they can make it through to morning on this feeding, even if they don’t decode nursing on their own.
Back in bed at 5am.
At 8am, Matt goes out to do morning chores. Usually, this is my job, but Matt has kindly agreed to let me sleep given all of the hustle and bustle overnight. He comes back immediately, reporting that the ram lamb is bleeding out! I had noticed that the ewe lamb was bleeding more than usual from her umbilicus, but I didn’t really register it as an emergency. When Matt brought the ram in, however, he was weak and shaking, with a massive sausage-like bruised mass of an umbilicus. (I’m putting the photo of this at the very bottom of the post- it will be educational for shepherds but it’s more gross than I usually show). The vet confirms my suspicion – it didn’t look like a hernia where all of the intestines are coming out. I tied the umbilicus off with six inches of button thread from Matt’s sewing kit and we offered the ram lamb some electrolytes. In minutes, he was up and more alert. Success!
At 9am, we are noting that the ewe lamb isn’t nursing. Matt and I take some time trying to nursing-train her. We get her to latch, but she didn’t drink a lot. We are still concerned about Chloe, and it occurs to me that she could have a mild case of Milk Fever, which happens when the body deploys too much calcium to provide milk for the lambs, leaving the ewe’s calcium levels low. We ground some Tums in our coffee grinder and added water to make a drench. Some Tums and hot molasses-water had Chloe looking brighter.
We debated what to do about the ewe lamb- would she be better off on the bottle? How much intervention is too much? How do we provide just enough help without lessening her chances of ever nursing from her mother? Even after seven years of kidding and lambing, I always ponder this question at length. Matt and I agree that if she is too weak, we will bring her in for warming and go from there.
I go back to sleep after this- it’s now 11am.
I’m a little vague on times after this, but Matt went back to keep working on getting the lambs to nurse. Once the ram wasn’t bleeding, he was up and at-em, nursing away. But the ewe still needed help. He milked Chloe into a bottle and fed the ewe lamb, but couldn’t get her to latch.
At 3pm, I was up for the day and went out. Finally, after lots of patient guidance, the ewe lamb latches and suckles for several minutes. I let her go, and she latches herself and nurses again! Doing a victory dance in the middle of their bonding pen would have been counterproductive, so I saved that for my announcement of the news to Matt back in the house.
We will keep monitoring this little family, but finally, I am comfortable that everything is headed in the right direction.
Here’s the hemorrhaged umbilicus, for those who want to see it:
I thought you all might appreciate some bonus photos of the lambs in the barn. Every time I got to do some chores, they are up to something silly:
But sheep-raising as a living is more than just cute critters. I’ve been working through pounds and pounds of wool from shearing. We sent 40 pounds of raw wool to two different mills, hoping to see which will make the yarn we like the best. Most will be white Border Leicester yarn, with some natural colored Border yarn and some CormoX, too!
My usual approach is to categorize wool into four piles: the cleanest wool goes for raw Handspinning fleece. Acceptable but not ultra-clean wool goes to the mill. Wool that is too dirty for the mill will be hand-picked and hand-combed by me until it will make a good batt or roving. And finally, if I can’t clean it or if it is britch or belly wool, it goes to compost. I’m pretty picky, so we also have 30 pounds of wool in the compost category.
I’ve been madly cleaning and carding, resulting in lots of lovely batts. YouTube has given me a few tips, so stand by for some roving! I am especially excited to try the techniques. So far, the Bluefaced Leicester is clearly much softer than the Border Leicester, but both are lovely and will be a joy to spin. The Border Leicester has finally showed me its beautiful luster! My picture of the natural Bluefaced Leicester Batts isn’t completely true-to-color – the wool is a rich coffee-bean brown with gray highlights.
I hope you will take a moment to check out the shop to see our array of wool products!
Friday: I was cleaning up the house and buying groceries in anticipation of shearing on Sunday and my mom coming up to celebrate her birthday among the sheep.
Saturday: At 8am, Mom calls to say that Grandma is dying. I try to keep personal stuff off this blog so I haven’t talked extensively about this, but Grandma has been sick with dementia and heart failure for the last five years. She went into comfort care at the end of February. I finish chores and hop in the truck, but I get to New Hampshire about 30 minutes after Grandma passed. We spend Saturday together as a family, just trying to comfort each other after such a long journey with Grandma’s illness. We toasted Grandma with white wine with ice cubes in it, as was her preference and shared memories of her.
I had called Mary, our shearer to cancel shearing, but I realize that some distraction is just the right thing for the family. So I asked Mary if I could un-cancel our shearing on Sunday morning, so we could still have Mom’s birthday activity. This may sound a little heartless, but I hope you will believe me when I say that there was little left to process in this passing. We all were able to say our farewells to Grandma and we’ve been mourning every loss of memory and capacity as they have transpired. Her passing was a release and a reprieve from suffering.
Saturday at Midnight: I drove 3 hours back to Vermont and arrived at 10pm. Matt let me know that Pearl the BFL was in labor. At midnight, she delivered a ewe and a lamb. We checked them throughout the night, and on little sleep I woke up early to prepare for shearing.
Sunday Morning When I got to the barn at 7am, I found Amethyst the BFL in labor as well as Ohio-72! Ohio-72 had two rams at 7:30 and Amethyst had a ram and a ewe at 8:30. Matt scrambled to repair a broken lambing jug so we could house all of these new lambs.
BFL/Border twin rams
Some BFL twins
I prepared the pen for shearing and lugged our shearing board out to the barn. Needless to say, we weren’t entirely ready for Mary when she arrived to shear, but she knew we’d had a long weekend already. We were up and running in about 20 minutes. It took 4 hours to shear the whole flock. The ewes all looked relieved to be free of their hot fleeces. Meadowlark stopped panting.
We all enjoyed lunch together, dining on the breakfast sandwiches I had meant to make in the morning! Then we sat and relaxed for a bit before going to to the garage to sort some fleeces. Mom and I have an arrangement to get the wool to one of the mills we plan to use this year and we know we need to get it to them ASAP. We started skirting the 13 white Border Leicester fleeces and made it through 9 of them. The necks and backs of the fleeces were dirty and we threw away all of the britch wool, but the sides were perfect.
By evening, I was starting to feel a little scratchiness in my throat. We feted Mom with a lamb loin roast and brussels sprouts and potatoes. We had all of the ingredients for the cake I had meant to make on Saturday, but Mom wasn’t really feeling the need for more food, so we just ate the oranges instead. None of us had slept properly in the last few days, so we were all in bed by 8pm.
Monday: I woke up on Monday feeling very poorly. Mom and I got it together to finish the wool skirting, but Mom felt like she’d rather leave early than contract whatever was brewing inside me. I took to the couch and wrapped myself in blankets, and Mom headed home. Poor Matt has had to do all of the animal management for the rest of Monday and the beginning of Tuesday.
Tuesday: I felt much better after a good lie-down and a sound sleep. Despite still feeling weak and headache-y, Matt and I did our routine to release ewes and lambs from the bonding jugs where they’ve been getting used to each other for two days. We dosed each lamb and all of the ewes with Vitamin E and BoSE, and trimmed the ewes hooves. We docked tails only on BFL ewe lambs, leaving the tails long enough to cover the bum. Neither ewe lamb squirmed, so I think we were successful at minimizing discomfort (docking early and banding between the bones of the tail makes a huge difference).
We are now relaxing after too much stress, sorrow and sickness. We didn’t want to go to Town Meeting in case my illness is contagious, so that will wait for next year. It looks like Summer the ewe will have her lambs very soon, so the excitement continues even as we try to sit down for a minute. The farm never sleeps, even if the farmers would really like to.
Many of you may be wondering how Steven Jr., our bottle lamb, is doing. I’d like to report that he is doing very well. He was born on February 23rd, early in the morning. By that Sunday, he was finally getting up and walking on his own.
We gradually moved him to the barn. Living indoors isn’t healthy for sheep and he needs to learn to live socially with other sheep. We left him alone outside for one hour and brought him in. We then tried two hours out and four, and finally an overnight. He adjusted fine to the temperatures, as we’ve had quite a thaw in the last little bit. Getting used to other sheep has been harder. He baas a lot and seems to irritate them with his lack of lamb social skills, but they are patient and generally kind.
He found a friend in Ohio-65’s ram lamb. They are the same size and age, and their common interests are sleeping in the sun and play-butting each other. Steven isn’t really big enough to run around with the bigger, older lambs, so he sticks with his buddy. He has also grown impressively – we are pleased with how well he is doing on milk replacer. His mother, Dalek, doesn’t seem to acknowledge him, so there was no possibility of him returning to her care.
I was very worried about him when he was born- a lamb that can’t stand has very poor prospects unless it can make huge gains quickly because they can’t digest their food properly lying on one side. Steven completely surpassed my hopes for his recovery and I’m happy to have this cheerful little fellow in the barn.
I woke up a 3:30 this morning. I think I was having a bad dream that woke me. My immediate intuition was to check the lamb-cam, just to be sure all was well. I scanned the barn and saw a weird black smudge on the hay. Blearily, I realized that the immobile black form on the camera had to be a lamb, so I threw on some clothes and went out.
It was a lamb! Dalek had birthed a single ram and cleaned him off completely, but all was not right. The lamb wouldn’t stand up and seemed to lack control of his limbs. Dalek had no milk to speak of, and to make matters more complicated, Ohio-65, a Border Leicester ewe, was also beginning labor and was CERTAIN the lamb was hers.
I penned Dalek and brought the lamb inside for warming and evaluation. He just flopped on the floor- he had poor control of his front legs and no control of his hind legs. We got him some colostrum-replacer, and I snoozed while he slept. I woke up and checked Ohio-65. She had a ewe out and was licking her with gusto. Good.
Eventually, Ohio-65 had a ewe and ram. Though she is not an experienced mother, she knew what to do and her babies were up and at-’em.
But Dalek’s little ram showed few signs of improvement through the morning. He and I snoozed until 7:30, when friends of mine visiting from Massachusetts came downstairs to see what the commotion was. I think I was sleeping face down on the floor in front of the stove, with the lamb curled beside me at that point. When I explained the lamb’s condition to Dani and Sarah, they started working to help him learn to stand and walk. The lamb made rapid progress – with assistance, he began to stand stable-ly and then figured out a tentative walk. He also figured out how to sit up a bit without assistance, so he wouldn’t just lie on his side.
It is hard to make a call about trying to save a lamb in the condition that this young ram. Lambs are always cute and it’s easy to go to extreme measures. We’ve agreed that we will continue to help him along provided he is making progress, and provided he is in a state where he can survive. Currently, we are worried that if he fell on his back, he would be unable to roll over and could be asphyxiate on his rumen. As of now, he is developing the ability to right himself and to stand up from a lying down position. So we will see how things go with our little lamb.
Cloverworks Farm is pleased to announce that our farm is now Animal Welfare Approved! We are excited to join the program and proud that we’ve been able to meet their requirements. We were granted a derogation to continue long-docking tails for breeding ewes. It feels good to have recognition of our humane efforts in not castrating or docking rams or non-breeding stock ewes.
Some local farmers are a little nervous about “Claim Proliferation” on labels. Claims like “Gluten Free” on fresh celery and “Farm Grown” on Lay’s Potato Chips (as opposed to wild caught?) are rankling some consumers. But the more I talk to people outside of our farming community, the more I realize how much we do need to communicate these facts that feel obvious to us. When I am not talking to the consumer directly, labels like Animal Welfare Approved convey the information I need to share. I want buyers in New York or Boston to know that my lambs were raised to the highest standards of welfare.
It was 3F out this morning when I took a look at the barn video system. 1610’s lambs were snuggled in the hay, and I could see Agnes II bouncing around. Scanning to the Northwestern corner of the barn, I saw one lamb standing and another little white blob near, with Meadowlark attending the standing lamb. New lambs! Even with the lowish-resolution barn cam, it’s not hard to pick out the only CormoX ewe in the flock.
I raced out the door towel-in-hand to find two very fresh, new lambs, a ram and a ewe. The ram was up and ready to get going. He seemed to have attracted most of mom’s attention. I started drying the ewe a bit, and then I put together a lambing jug. We had a lot of “helpers”, mainly the very curious BFL ewe lambs, so I was keen to give Lark and her babies some privacy.
Once the lambs and the ewe were in the pen, I noticed that the ewe still hadn’t gotten up on her own. The main issue with being born in extreme cold is that the lamb uses up its energy just trying to keep warm while it waits for Mom to dry it off. When it’s time to stand up, find the teat and learn to nurse, it is out of oomph and risks hypothermia. With Meadowlark still intent on her son, I milked off some of her colostrum. I grabbed the ewe and went indoors. The ewe lamb wasn’t really protesting like an energetic lamb would, so I felt more justified in my decision. My only nagging concern was whether or not Lark would want her back. But in we went, and soon the little lamb was warming by the fire.
The little ewe had ice on the fur of her legs, and her little ears were like ice cubes. I rewarmed the colostrum. As soon as the lamb started to become active again, we fed her with a bottle. The bloom of new life overtook her and her lethargy vanished- baa’s started to erupt as she beat her little legs around trying to stand on our hardwood floors. Once her little legs, back and tummy were all dry, we brought her back to Mom. To my delight, Lark was happy to see her. The lamb started searching for Lark’s udder, and we knew we had succeeded.
About an hour later, we grabbed the boy and melted his wool, too. Even though he had fed well, he was struggling against the cold. Half as much time was all he needed.
Now that everyone is dry and fed, I can finally finish my coffee.