Things Sure Change Fast Around Here
It’s official: We’ve had more snow since spring started than in any of the so-called winter months this season.
It couldn’t happen at a worse time. All our ewes had just given birth or were about to when this latest “polar vortex” struck. And we were feeling so smug, watching the grass go green.
This morning, with the mercury registering barely 12 degrees Fahrenheit, the last of our Dorpers (hair sheep) successfully delivered a lamb. That’s quite a turn from last year, when she gave birth prematurely to a stillborn.
Sadly, I must report that the previous morning I found one of Charlotte’s triplets–a strapping ram-ling–frozen to death outside the walk-in shelter. At some point he made a bad decision to stray from the herd. Charlotte obviously wasn’t paying close enough attention–or had her hands full with the other two.
In all, our ewe crew of nine have given birth to 16 lambs since January. Three perished. Meanwhile, on the goat side of things, our five dames so far have delivered seven kids. Tragically, as dawn broke this morning, I discovered that one of our more experienced moms, the Nubian dairy goat Sal, had dropped two kids in a terrible spot in the snow yards from their shelter.
We’ll never know what possessed her to leave the cozy confines of the herd to give birth so awkwardly. Unfortunately, by the time I arrived one of her twins–a big spotted buckling–was already dead in the cold. Sal, meanwhile, was standing off in a corner, paying no attention at all.
I quickly rushed his twin sister into the house, where we rubbed her down good with towels and placed her in front of the wood stove.
After a few hours recuperating, this little girl we’re calling Millie–short for the Spanish milagra, or “miracle”–was on her feet, sucking colostrum substitute from a bottle and peeing on the floor.
We’ll shortly get the kidding shed ready and try to reunite Millie with her mom. Hopefully maternal instincts will take over from there.