Circle M Farm

Last night just at dusk, little Lena, a yearling ewe, quietly sneaked off behind the barn to give birth to a single sweet tiny ram. When I came upon them during my evening check of the animals, he was curled up, dry and clean in the bright new grass like a delicate porcelain figurine, with Lena hovering on guard beside him. They made such a darling picture, all alone in an intimate circle of new motherhood, that I involuntarily gasped in wonder.

I’ve been privy to dozens of lamb births over the past few years, but none so tender as this. Lena is a petite sheep, herself a runt and bottle baby from last year, and I’d wondered this spring if she was even pregnant because she didn’t size up much. She is by nature shy and because of her size has never mixed it up with the pushier ewes in the flock. Maybe that’s why she kept this new creature in her care safely apart from the group, and why she mothers so closely and seriously. She stayed with him, hidden from the rest of the flock who’d returned to their shelter across the paddock, all night long behind the barn. Finally, this morning around 6 am, Lena gingerly led him back home to the others, perhaps feeling he’d gained enough strength and balance to stand up to the rowdy group of lambs back in the fold.

Small as he is, about the size of a tall kitten, her decision was probably wise. I’ve named the little ramling Loki, for the mythological Norse giant, in hopes that he will grow big and strong. Hopefully, he won’t grow up to be a mischievous prankster like his namesake.

Lena’s unswerving focus on the lamb is palpable. She’s never more than a few inches from him, refusing to stray for either food or water and I’ve had to bring both right to her. They use such quiet private voices when talking to each other that it makes you want to hush the rest of the barnyard and enter into their peaceful space. But Lena will have none of that. The most protective ewe I’ve ever seen, she refuses to let me get anywhere near. When I manage to pick up Loki, she skitters off, bawling miserably and running back and forth ‘til I’ve released him. What a great privilege it is to be able to witness the miracle of instinct these animals have been given.