Lambing 2015.. Almost half way

So, we have had the cades for 18 days now and though one or two were a likkle ikky for a day or so, I stood for no nonsense and everyone is now fit and well and looking like sumo wrestlers. We have found a need to put prison bars across the stable door where they all live; trying to escape from the little horrors after fueling them, was like a Keystone Cops movie; one in, two out, one between your legs etc. All 8 are eating creep (hard food) and drinking well from the milk bucket, though there is the occasional punch up for the best teat! As soon as I've finished lambing we'll get these ladies out to a paddock during the day, though I'll bring them in at night for warmth.

As you will see from the pic below, these cute lambs are savage. Peoples' coats, jackets, hair are  nibbled viciously and our wellies with the fasteners on the side, are the best chew toys on the market.

Vicious creatures....

Have I mentioned that Hubby is a genius? This year we have night vision CTV in the barn that links to an app on the iPad..... (I almost don't know what I said there but it has made life so wonderful.) There are 4 shots of the barn, all covering the various birthing stables. We can sit in front of the fire, even watching TV, only venturing out into the chill or rain to potter to the barn when there is a change in behaviour. It's wonderful.

At day 16 of the cades' life, our pregnant ewes decided to add to the baby ratio. Cocoa, a first-time mum, was first to birth, delivering 3 healthy good-sized lambs, albeit at shift change at 2am. I had to help a little as she presented the first with a head and just one leg. I almost called my neighbour, who is so kind to us, but in the end I trusted my instincts and delivered the lamb safely myself. I helped again with lamb 2, fearing it was dead. After clearing airways and giving it a bit of a swing, it gave a big cough and was with us in the world. Baby 3 was half in and half out when Cocoa decided to go for a walkabout. I held the lamb and out she came. In the end Cocoa had two girls and a boy. She nickered and licked and prodded them towards her milk. An instinctive, loving mum instantly.

Cocoa and Triplets 2015

Not so Bino, also a first-time mum, also of triplets. She birthed the first lamb and licked it clean, and as I lashed off to get a coffee, leaving the under-birther (12yo) in charge, Bino instantly expelled a tiny, weeny thing. The under-birther leapt the barrier and cleared the baby's passage way, checked it was OK and then bolted (she's fast) to the house to manically ring the front door bell - our emergency signal.

The tiny lamb was only about 1.5lbs and it was clear that even if she could stand she wouldn't be able to reach the teats. I whipped her up in my arms and looked about for something to wrap her in. 'Open your jacket and fleece' I said to the 12yo. She obliged and we popped the chilly, damp lamb into the warm pouch.

I'm very proud of both of our children, they are brave and kind and it's not many pre-teens who want a soggy, birthing juicy lamb down their jumper. Eventually baby lamb and girl moved inside to the sitting room and fire.

Intensive care

It was touch and go with this tiny baby but the 12yo had a steely look in her eye and assured me it would live. We milked mum of colostrum and fed it to all her babies.

In the end, Bino rejected baby number 2, preferring to raise just 1 lamb this first season! A week on and they are all are doing well. Mums and babies are in the field, rejected babies are thriving in the barn. We had to take one of the triplets from Cocoa before we turned her out, as her body conditioning wasn't good enough to care for 3, so now we have three new cades who will join our breeding ewes and live at The Larches full time.

Shrimp, as we've called the tiny one, Bee, her sister and Flopsy, Cocoa's triplet, are all doing well. A friend donated a doggie coat for Shrimp and I'm sorely tempted to get dressed up, pop her into one of those doggie carry bags and take her to lunch, just as the movie/pop stars do with their mini dogs. [I promise I won't.]

Shrimp

Shrimp and Bee

This morning another set of twins were born at 4am and 5am... I was surplus to need I'm pleased to say. That makes 8 babies, just 1 boy among them. Wish I had that ratio with chickens! I'm tired but happy and there are just four more ewes to go. Fingers crossed.

Catching one's breath......

Blimey is it May already? Mid May??? ..... Gosh.

When I last wrote we'd had 3 lambs and though I'd had no sleep, we Archers were broadly happy and healthy. This heath check extended to humans, sheep, alpaca, chickens and cats. Check.

On Sunday 13th April our last, and most huge, of our ewes decided to lamb. Snowy waited till I'd had a full night of broken sleep before lambing at 9am Sunday morning. She popped out two lovely boys with minimal assistance from me. Fab.

Two days later and the 11yo noticed an issue: The 1st of Snowy's twins was turning into a goat. His ears were flopped by the side of his head, giving him a very kid goat appearance. He was also on fire with a fever. Even with an injection of antibiotic he didn't really improve and so my sleepless nights continued as I napped on the couch in the kitchen, a small sickly lamb beside me. (In a dog crate I hasten to add. I'm not THAT soft!..... )

Having sworn I would not raise cade lambs this year, I was saddled with one! The children convinced us that buying another cade lamb would be best, so that this little one wouldn't be lonely in the stables. All of a sudden I was a full-time carer again, milk maker and mucker-outer for two babies.

May I say that some lambs' table manners are appalling.

With plenty of milk, a cool environment and advice from the vet, the little chap made it through, though of course, by now his mum had rejected him. I was the new Mummy on the block.

Anyhoo, I'm pleased to say he's all better now, he lives with the flock, sleeps in the hay box in the field shelter! and potters around with his purchased pal.

The pal lamb we purchased was a baby girl but the 11yo, (clearly the brightest in the Archer clan,) has since noticed that it is a boy..... It's tricky this farming malarky.

Sex-change cade followed by sickly cade....

H&S Advice: How NOT TO feed a strong cade lamb.....

H&S Advice: I rest my case....

Painted nails are a MUST!

Still waiting.....

I have been awake many hours now and still no new lambs to report..... time to repot the Earthwalker Sunflowers methinks...

Mothers' Day Thank Ewe.... 1st lamb

 

I've been negligent at my blogging. It's not from lack of material; tons of that here at The Larches, it's just time. I wish I was Samantha from Bewitched, or at the very least, could borrow her nose.

The chicks we grew are growing well and have moved from incubator, to brooder, to warmed coop, to outside al-fresco living in the outdoor pens. I expect we'll take them to market in another 10 weeks. They are an impressive bunch; 2 pure bred Salmon Faverolles and 3 mixed breed Salmon Faverolle and Black Rock. These are seriously cute looking.

In view of the fact that we were lambing this year I offered my services i.e. forced myself on, our gorgeous hill farmer friends again. I was their YTS girl several years ago and, looking back, realise I was a nervous, chatty, rose-coloured spectacles type of a girl who had not a clue what was going on in their sheds, all I could see were the lovely likkle lambs. If you're interested here's the post - sorry about the rude bits, oh and the weird formatting.... Can't fix it!! So annoying.

This year, again on their farm, I was still as much use as a chocolate tea pot but I absorbed, sponge-like the seriousness of lambing. I realised that it was a life or death situation where the shepherd is the key to success. I asked much more pertinent questions and felt, funnily, far less competent to deal with my up and coming lambing than I had felt (thanks to utter ignorance and insane enthusiasm) two years ago. In fact, on leaving their farm, with my three ewes approximately a month away from lambing, I felt like shouting out,

'I've changed my mind - no lambing please!'

Watching Lambing Live has reminded me of things I forgot to ask and of countless pieces of equipment that I have omitted to buy like lubricant gel and replacement milk. Here's hoping I won't need either before Countrywide opens tomorrow.

As I write to you now, it is 3am on Mothering Sunday and I have just started my shift after going to bed at 10am last night. I am sat in our American barn on a park bench covered in a picnic blanket, wearing most of my wardrobe, waterproof trousers, warm hat (but not a bobble hat like Ms Humble) and two coats. To be honest it's not cold, I suspect the temperature is probably a balmy 7* and there is, thankfully, no wind. It is a stunning night and the clouds have just cleared to reveal a starry sky, perfectly visible in our dark rural setting.

Here in the barn, makeshift lighting is pointing into a large birthing stable where Snowy, Pink and Moon are resident on fresh, golden barley straw. Hubby took the first shift tonight and has kept lovely warm fire going in the brazier outside the barn door.

Last evening was momentous: The girl and I gently assisted Moon, (the girl's 1st ever Cade lamb - the lamb she reared by bottle,) to birth her first lamb.

At dinner time, approximately 6pm, the 11yo excused herself from dishwasher emptying on the pretext of checking the barn for signs of maternity. A few moments later Hubby called out to say he'd seen the girl run back towards the house. It was happening.

After eating in shifts, we watched, fascinated, as over the course of an hour various fluids were deposited. The boy was transfixed one minute, revolted the next as Moon paced and strained and licked her lips. Eventually something, possibly a foot, was visible. I braved a long plastic glove to check. To my eye it seemed that the presentation was normal (thank Gawd) and we waited again, not interfering. Within moments with family Archer watching, a huge lamb appeared. It was fully encased in its sack so I got the girl to clear the mouth and nose ( which she loved.) I decided not to pull the lamb around to mum as the umbilical cord looked large and I'd been warned that you could cause a bleed. In the end Moon stood and turned to lick her baby and the cord was severed naturally. Phew! We left the mum and baby to bond. Amazing.

More than 20 minutes later and after Moon had licked and licked her baby clean, the lamb managed to get to its feet, searching for the teat. Moon couldn't quite understand this and every time the baby got close she moved off. Eventually The girl and I entered the pen we made for this new family group from sturdy hurdles and, while I gently held mum, the 11yo latched on the baby to Moon's udder.

I'm so proud of my girl; she finds this kind of adventure so natural and she seems to have a very special, instinctive way with the animals and they really respond to her. Thanks to her, baby is now regularly suckling loudly.

It's now almost 6am and there doesn't seem to be a sign of another lamb from Moon, just one huge boy. He's really leggy, with black socks and has really long ears, if I was asked what breed he was I'd say Blue Faced Leicester, though I'm sure the father is a Texel!

There's lots of indication that the next two ewes are on their way to labour but as yet there has been no evidence of a fluid sack from either. At least we have almost reached morning, in fact it will be light in a few minutes and so, if I have any real birthing issues today I will hope to be able to call our farming friends locally for assistance, though I must remember it us Mother's Day. Actually I've already had my present from the family: a brand new green wheelbarrow. I've already test-driven it when poo-picking the alpaca, it's a hottie, top sped of at least 5mph... (Top Gear presenters are quaking in their boots lest I take their jobs thank to that motoring review...)

Anyhow, here's hoping all our girls are safe and their babies delivered without complications. Lambing Live is a wonderful programme but, as one farmer told me yesterday as I purchased some straw.

'It doesn't go as smooth as that in real life.'

Apparently he has birthed many dead and rotting lambs this year and he puts this down to the bad weather. Very worrying, especially if this is your livelihood.

Still, on this lovely morning, coffee pot on in the barn, a wood fire for company and one healthy lamb delivered, I'm feeling rather content. Fingers crossed that it continues to go smoothly.