Two Shakes and a Lamb's Tale: A Dramatic Delivery with Your Friends Farm

BY JESS JAGER
PHOTOS BY MADDISON FOLEY

We always say that lambing starts in October when we release Bruno, our ram, into the field with our ewes. This may seem odd as the lambs are not visible, they are obviously within the good care of their mothers, one may wonder what we are so worried about. The first 15 days of gestation are the most critical though. A sheep’s environment and food are necessary concerns as their bodies work to implant the embryo which can be easily lost before this point from something as simple as rough contact or poor nutrition.

We do not administer pregnancy tests or run ultrasounds. Instead, we depend on our ability to notice the body condition of each ewe to tell us if she's being properly fed, how many lambs we might expect (although this is a guess) and how far along she may be. The indication that we did a good job in providing prenatal care for our sheep is in the lamb that is produced. The health of the lamb when it hits the ground tells us a lot about the mother's pregnancy, the conditions of her environment and the quality of her feed.

We also keep detailed lambing records of each birth, its outcomes, the condition of the mothers and the ease of all of the above. We track her instincts and her desire to feed and care for her lambs and navigate the growth of our flock accordingly. The maternal qualities of our sheep are something that we select for and long to reproduce for ourselves and others.

Most of the time our ewes do the hard work of laboring on their own–it is a gift to catch the process but we are equally grateful for a successful delivery that we've missed. A delivery without intervention on our part is preferred but on occasion, we will have a ewe that needs a bit of assistance. It is for this reason that once their gestation reaches the end we do our best to remain close to the barn to aid in any way necessary.

Last year, our first ewe to drop lambs, Louise, birthed triplets that attempted to make their way into the world all at one time. I was there to guide two back in and then help them out one at a time. In the end, all three were healthy and happy. Louise continues to be a phenomenal mother, with a strong ability to manage multiples. Judging from her size, I half suspected her to give birth first this year, but that isn’t quite what happened.

Our first lamb was born to our youngest and smallest ewe, Brownette. She gave birth on her own to a single ramling that we named Harry–we are going with a Home Alone theme for names this year. He was a good sized lamb and she took right to the good work of caring for him.

The second delivery of the year is one I will never forget.

The afternoon Blanche went into labor, I was on my way home from town. Our daughter, Grace, called to let me know that the ewe was in labor but seemed to be progressing slowly. I got home, threw coveralls on over my town clothes and ran down to the barn, keeping my nice boots on with the expectation that I wouldn’t need to be too involved. I wasn’t there long before I noticed that something wasn’t quite right. The sheep seemed to be pushing without much progress, so I decided to investigate.

Grace held Blanche in place and I performed an exam to try and determine what we were dealing with. Upon my initial inspection, I found four hooves and no head. Lambs generally assume a diving position through birth. In a perfect situation, their head rests atop their front two hooves and they sort of dive into the world. This was not a perfect situation.

This is our third year lambing but there are still a multitude of experiences I have not had. Like most scenarios in life, shepherding is best done within a community. We have friends and mentors and other farmers with lots of experience lambing.

As I was not familiar with this presentation or how to fix it, I called my friend Whitney at Verdant Hare Farm and asked for some advice. She was kind enough to talk me through what she would do, taking mental notes before hanging up the phone and getting back to work.

I repositioned the lamb as Whitney suggested and I thought for sure Blanche would be able to do the rest of the work, but we weren’t so lucky. It seemed the lamb was stuck; all the pushing and pulling provided for a swollen head, without ample space to be delivered. I was desperate and a little fearful. Grace had been cheering me on the whole time, encouraging and assuring me that I had what it took to finish this birth. At this point, we had been working with this lamb for almost two hours. We were tired, Blanche was tired, and it seemed we were without many other options.

I have never had to do this before but I don't hesitate in asking for help when it comes to any of our animals. I called the vet and told her we would be bringing in Blanche to be evaluated. With the vet an hour away, I couldn’t put the sheep in a trailer without risking the life of the lamb, who was dependent on us keeping their nose in a position where it could continue to breathe. My husband Brian was at the feed store with our farm truck, so the only option that we had was Grace’s car, a Jeep Liberty that sits a bit off the ground.

If you haven’t guessed who the real MVP is of this story yet, it's Grace–she has only been a farm kid for three years but she's taken quite naturally to it. We covered the back in blankets and sheets and set our minds to getting this 150lb sheep into the back of the car.

Blanche was tired and sore, and probably in pain; Grace and I were desperate. We tried our hardest to lift her into the back of the car with no luck. Grace being the physics-minded child that she is, instructed me to build a ramp. So with some feed buckets and scrap wood, I did just as she said and with some effort and muscle we were able to get Blanche up the ramp and into the car.

Grace settled into the back holding the lambs head in position and I got behind the wheel. Brian got home as I set off down our driveway, so I threw open the door of the Jeep and yelled at him to get in. As we headed through the canyon towards Highway 2, I caught him up on the happenings of our evening. When we hit the highway Blanche started screaming. It was alarming but it was clear that she was trying to push this lamb out. By the time I got to Zip’s in Airway Heights, about 25 minutes from our farm, I knew I had to pull over and do whatever we could to make her comfortable. With another half hour to go before even reaching the vet, I had to try one more time to pull this lamb.

We pulled over in front of the big glass windows at Zip’s where a family tried to enjoy their burgers and cars exited the drive-thru with their shakes and fries. Those poor people did not sign up for this sort of dinner entertainment, but they were in for a show as I quickly climbed in the back of the Jeep.

I warned Brian and Grace that this lamb still might not make it as there had been a lot of trauma. But Grace just kept on telling me, “It's still breathing mom, you can do this. It wants to live.”

Moving Blanche on her side, I reached in for the hooves and yanked with all my might. With just a couple of pulls, little Fuller broke free and came into the world with a loud cry. A bit swollen but otherwise perfect.

Suspecting that there was probably a twin, but again not knowing if it had survived, I reached in, finding the hooves and head of a second lamb. It grabbed onto my finger with its mouth and I screamed, “There’s another one and it's alive.”

Tears now rolling down my cheeks, Grace’s Jeep covered in all of the elements of a successful birth I pulled and out came a second lamb.

Woof is her name and she’s perfect.

Next thing I know, Brian was asking me if we still need to go to the vet. I looked at the two perfect and healthy lambs and said, “Nope, let's go back to the farm.”

I crawled into the back of the Jeep with Blanche where I became sandwiched between the wall and a sheep wanting to nurse her new babies. I held them through the corners, hoping and praying that she would be able to stay standing. Upon returning to the farm she hopped right out the back of the car, leading the way right into a fresh stall with her babies. You would have never known what a wild night we had all shared.

Farming is new adventure each day. It has taught me what it looks like to be loyal and steadfast, committed and hopeful. We work for this flock, and in return, we get to celebrate the miracle of life on the regular–it is no small thing. I see myself in service to them, not the other way around.

On the farm we never give up before the animal does. It is a rule for me and my heart that I will try to hold on until I have no ability to try any longer. Grace reminded me of that and I was grateful that she knew in her heart that we could in fact do this and help Blanche birth her lambs.