Two of my ewes lambed this morning. I know God must have been smiling at my feeble attempt to control outcomes: the two ewes who lambed were neither of the two ewes I’d carefully put in jugs.
Moreover, both were maiden ewes who had never lambed before and each gave birth in the melée of the big stall. However, they were champions and after some flurry on my part to sort and rearrange the ewes and the new families, all is well.
Here is Magnolia with her twins, one a ewe lamb, 6 lbs 9 oz, and one a ram, 5 lbs 7 oz.
I’m not sure why the lambs are so small, as Magnolia seems quite healthy. However, tiny as they are, the lambs were on their feet nursing very quickly. Magnolia is a perfect mother.
My ewe Georgie, not quite a year old, gave birth to a singleton, a pretty and vigorous ewe lamb, 7 lbs 12 oz. At this age, an extra pound or two makes a tremendous difference. This little girl looks as if she could bench press the babies in the next jug.
Meanwhile it truly seems impossible for Blackberry, at age seven my flock’s grande dame, to go much longer or grow much bigger. I look at her udder swollen to shininess and think, Ouch!
Three pregnant ewes down, five to go. I am running around madly with lists, packing and organizing. The girls and I start our drive to Florida tomorrow at noon.
I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m praying for one or even two more safe deliveries before I get behind the wheel.