Rice River Ramblings: Give 'em a Chance

Scar requesting, "Please mom, can I have my lambs next?" Anytime Scar, anytime.

Sunday was a long night. As we were heading to bed at 11pm, the lamb cam revealed that Good Mama was going into labor. She was pawing and 'nesting.' I knew it would take some time, so I set the alarm for an hour, and tried to get a bit of sleep. At midnight I turned on the television in time to witness Good Mama giving birth to a large white lamb. Clothes were thrown on and out the door I ran. The ram lamb was active, and trying to stand before she even had him cleaned off. Nate came out and quickly built a fourth jug since Pamela, Fiona, and the chicks resided in the other three. We watched as Good Mama began to have more contractions. Our watching quickly turned to action when we realized no hooves were present. (For my non-shepherd friends, normal presentation for a lamb birth is the two front hooves followed by the nose.) It was a true breech, butt first. Nate helped deliver the lamb quickly, but he wasn't breathing. I ran for the bulb syringe, and this is when the drama occurred.

****If you are sensitive, please do not read the next paragraph, skip ahead to the pictures. ****

Nate grasped the ram lamb in a towel, and went to swing him in a circle. The centrifugal force drives the fluids out of thier lungs. Well, the lamb slipped from his grasp, and ended up against the garage door. Thankfully, I did not witness this, I was on the other half of the garage/barn retrieving the bulb syringe. Amazingly, the force caused the lamb to begin to breath. We helped Good Mama clean him, with feelings of dread, and sorrow. We figured there was no way he would survive the trauma of his birth and the attempt at saving him. He was unable to stand, and quite limp. A bit of nurtidrench, heat lamp, and some colostrum milked from his mom, and we figured we had done enough damage for one night. He did have a strong sucking instinct when we fed him. It was 2 am when we headed to the house. Adrenalin must have longer lasting effects on women, because I lay awake for the next hour, reliving the stressful experience, and Nate was snoring within ten minutes. 5:15 am rolled around, and I rolled out of bed with feelings of dread of what I would find in the garage. Well, all the lambs were alive, though the little traumatized one was weak, and just laying under the heat lamp. I milked more colostrum from Good Mama and fed it to him. He again took the bottle well. Nate was home during the day on Monday, and provided care to him. At this point, on Tuesday night, he is beginning to move around the lambing jug, though he is still unable to stand entirely independently. He gets up about half way, and then lowers his body back down. We think he is able to nurse on his own, since he moves under Good Mama and is at a height where he can reach as long as she stays still. Time will tell if he is able to make a complete recovery, but if he does he is truly a miracle! We are calling him Cream, which I am sure deserves some explanation. When we lost the white ewe last week, Kohen asked if the next white lamb could be named Marshmallow. So, I started to call the first born Marshmallow. Nate jokingly said that if the little one made it we should call him Cream, because of his method of contact with the garage door. Gruesome, but Nate does have a dry sense of humor. Well, we are all still calling them these names. Nate is not wild about the posibility of having the ram of our flock called Marshmallow. But if Cream is able to recover an dlive, he will be Marshmallow's wether companion.