Quiet Eating
I mentioned in the last post that once the excitement of birthing is over, the main activity in our little three-sided stone barn is quiet eating. Boring, peaceful and just the way it should be. In fact, the sound of lambs bleating would be a sign that something is amiss.
As with most baby animals, talking is reserved only for times of distress – such as hunger or separation. Extra vocalizations would just confuse matters. When a herd of sheep is mixed together, moms sometimes wander off from sleeping little ones in search of greener pastures. When they wake alone, all the lambs have to do is raise a few tiny high-pitched bleats to elicit a deeper response from the ewe. The family quickly runs toward each others’ voices, and all are reunited.
Had these twins been born in spring, as I meant them to be, they’d already be off and running with fellow lambs during their waking hours. At certain times of the day, especially right before dusk, the pack of babies takes off in exuberant full-out sprints back and forth across the pasture and in circles around the chicken house. I’m not sure what sends them, but generally one lamb will suddenly tear away and the rest will follow like a school of fish. Tiny fat running lambs are adorable enough, but better still is when their uncontained excitement inspires them in mid-stride to leap into the air and kick both back legs out to one side, first one lamb and then another, like popcorn in a skillet. A shepherd friend of mine calls this “spronging,” maybe for the combination of springing and hopping that is a particularly sheepish way to express delight. Then it’s time again to find mom for a quick drink of milk followed by an instant nap.
Rocky and Rambo, however, will be locked for several weeks in a generous straw-bedded pen with Karla, to protect them from the deep snow outside. Keeping sheep enclosed is actually quite unhealthy, an invitation to pneumonia, but the barn has just three sides, including one with a window, and allows plenty of air to circulate and sun to shine in.
Even in spring, I try to catch and pen new sheep families for a few days so I can easily assess the health of the animals and the establishment of nursing relationships. The brief confinement is also an ideal time to administer shots and accomplish other procedures. When ewes lamb in the field, as they often do, I pick up the newborns and carry them slowly to the barn. Generally, the mother immediately follows the baaaing babies, but last spring I did have to push a skittish Polly into a hay sled and drag her through the snow into a pen after her twins. I never do manage to catch some families, and when the time comes to dock tails or castrate males or give vaccinations, I have to sneak up on the lambs while they’re eating and snatch them.
What a shepherd looks for in a new sheep family are quiet, actively curious lambs and an alert mom that’s eating well and standing often to nurse. And during nursing time, I must see wagging tails. When a lamb is suckling milk, he wags his tail furiously. A hungry lamb doesn’t wag, she bleats constantly.
But Karla’s babies are getting along just grand. Here they are, doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing.
Calling. I picked Rocky up, so he’s crying for his mom.
Exploring. Lambs are naturally curious, and, in fact, are a lot less skittish about people than adult sheep. Rocky is checking me out, then watching the goats and geese outside the barn.
Spronging. Lambs either stand still or sprint, and any surprise can send them kicking up their heels in this adorable combination of springing and hopping.
Nursing. The first order of business after any exertion (or any nap) is to find mom and have a little snack at the milk bar. Notice how Rambo pokes at the udder to encourage Karla to let down. He can lift her back end off the ground at this young age, and he’ll be nursing for a few months more. Look at his tail go!
Sleeping. Rocky’s had a run and a snack and now it’s time to nap. He’s found the circle of warmth created by the heat lamp, and he’s going to tuck his legs under for a cozy snooze.
