I’ve been waking up at the crack of dawn to feed the little bottle lamb in the barn. Then the puppy, Mike Vivaldi, always wants to go for a walk. I took him along this morning to check and see if any lambs were born in the night.
Not quite… But Mimi was on the ground, moaning. Mike and I went into the pen and I could see a little mouth and a big red tongue sticking out of her lady sheep parts (technical language). As we approached, Mimi got up and ran! She obviously needed help, but she was going to be difficult about it.
I tied up Mike to a fence post, because he is not yet skilled in the arts of shepherding and lamb doulaing (though I expect great things from him, someday). After some awkward running and dodging other sheep, I caught her in a catch pen, stuck my hands up in her, grabbed those slippery slimy lamb legs and pulled out a most enormous ram lamb. She yelled. Pretty sure it didn’t feel that great! Then she just stood there and stared at that slimy, bloody ram on the ground with no recognition, like, “What the hell is that?”
And then I walked Mike Vivaldi back and drove my daughter to band practice. All before breakfast!
I left them penned up together for three hours, went back, and he was all fluffy. Mimi had cleaned him up. She was bonded to him, except when I put a lamb sweater on him, she didn’t seem to know who he was, suddenly, so I took the sweater off again. Fashion be damned. It’s supposed to rain tonight, but honestly, he looks pretty hearty.
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