As we all know, sheep are flocking animals, being very uncomfortable going through life on their own.  In fact, when we bought our first two sheep, they really didn't settle in until we brought in a third - I guess, to them, two just weren't a flock, but three were....

So as lambs begin to grow, they look for the company of other sheep.  For the first week or so, they are content with the company of their dam and their siblings, but before long, they are looking for more.  That's the stage that we are in now - all but a very few of our lambs have made it past that one week point, and they are beginning to flock together into little groups by age - we call them "lamb gangs."

The term actually fits what we see in our pasture very well.  The older ones begin by hanging out at fence corners (see the photo above), attracting other lambs of a similar age to join them.  Usually our gangs span about a two-week age group - beyond that, I think there is too big a difference at this point regarding their physical abilities, so the younger ones form their own little gang (usually near the feeders where their moms eat their grain - see photo below).  These younger gangs are more loosely organized, with only three or four lambs in any one group.  Once we get two or three of the bigger, older-lamb gangs going in our pastures, it is a lot of fun to watch!

It seems that the whole purpose of these lamb gangs is just to belong and have fun.  One gang will take over the manure pile, and suddenly the other will try for a take-over, with lots of pushing and king-of-the-mountain play in the process.  Eventually, they all give up on the mountain and take off in a race to see which group can make it to the barn first.  It is amazing to watch them run at top speed, with some extra twists and kicks in the process, and yet there are no collisions - no accidents.  It is very much like a flock of birds flying in formation, turning and twisting in the sky, yet never getting in each others' way.

These gangs of lambs are more likely to form at certain times of day.  Sometimes while the ewes are eating, some of the younger lambs will form up into their gangs; but the older lambs have already given up flocking at that time - they are more interested in eating alongside the flock at the grain feeders than playing with their friends.  The most common time to see the lamb gangs in action is just before dusk.  Beginning about an hour before dusk, they gather their friends and begin to run and play.  I suppose that they have eaten their fill all through the day and, by dusk, have energy to burn!

It's amazing how fast these little lambs are - there is no way to catch them by just running after them.  If you need to catch one, you need to outsmart them rather than outrun them.  They run for the joy of running, stopping here and there to catch their breath or to spar with another lamb within the group.  Like with children's play, lamb play prepares them for becoming adult sheep, teaching them to move within the flock, work out disagreements, and generally become a cooperative member of a large group of sheep. 

I must say that - whatever the reason for lambs ganging together this time of year - for us, it is great entertainment!

In the blog dated Friday, March 12th, I mentioned that not only were the fleeces of the Romneys and the Romeldales different, but that I had calculated this year that the length of gestation was also different between the breeds.  I've had several people ask me since then if I could explain a little about the difference in fleeces between the two breeds, so I thought I would try to do that here today.

We started our flock with the Romneys, and that's how most people begin to spin, too - with the Romneys.  Romney sheep are considered "longwools" because their fleeces grow so quickly that you can see staple lengths (the length of a piece of the fiber) of up to about nine inches - at least that's what we sometimes see.  In general, the longer the wool, the coarser the fiber - but not always!  Romneys are some of the finest of the longwools, but still have a fiber diameter of over 30 microns, and that is important to know.

People often talk about wool being itchy, or that they are allergic to wool because it makes them itch.  Most of the time, the itching has nothing to do with allergies - they itch from the wool because they are choosing to wear wool that is too coarse for next-to-the-skin wear.  Most people begin to itch when the fiber reaches 30 microns in diameter, and the further below 30 microns you get, the more comfortable the fiber feels.  The other issue, though, is that the lower the fiber diameter, the less durable the fiber - so you are always balancing durability with comfort.

Romneys are specified by breed standard to between 29 and 36 microns, so even the finest Romney will still have fibers over 30 microns (remember that fiber diameter on an animal, when measured, is represented as a bell-shaped curve, so there are fibers present both above and below the stated median).  This makes Romney yarn a good, durable fiber that works well for socks, mittens, hats, scarves, and sweaters that would be worn over other clothing. 

Because it is a longwool, it has a lovely luster, or shine, to the fiber and a very distinctive crimp (the little waves in the fiber).  The photo at the left shows representative staples from Fern's fleece last year.  In this photo, you can see not only the length of fiber (which is fairly typical of our Romneys), but also the Romney crimp and luster.  Romney fiber is easy to spin, so many people begin with it, but it is also lovely enough that many experienced spinners come back to it again and again.

The Romeldale/CVM breed was developed in the last century from a combination of Romney, Corriedale, and Rambouillet sheep.  Selection at the time the breed was developed was for fine, next-to-the-skin fiber that was longer in staple length than typical from some of the other breeds - on a good quality meat animal that was very fertile and had strong mothering traits.  Kind of sounds like they wanted it all, doesn't it? 

Well, so did we. And after looking for a breed that was similar in management to the Romneys, but would produce a finer fiber on a dual-purpose animal (meat and fiber), we settled on the Romeldales/CVMs.  They are a critically endangered breed, and I liked the idea of conserving the genetics for future generations.  I have not been disappointed!  They are as easy to take care of as the Romneys, are a bit more fertile (on average) for more of the year, and produce a lovely, fine fiber.

The breed name(s) can be a bit confusing, though.... Romeldale is the name of the breed, and CVM is the name of a particular color pattern within that breed - specifically, the badger pattern that includes dark eyes, dark muzzle, dark striping on the face, dark belly, dark legs, and a dark chest (only five of these traits must be present for a Romeldale to be considered a CVM), with other areas being a paler color.  You can get CVMs from two Romeldale parents, and you can also get a colored or white Romeldale from two CVM parents.  All CVMs are Romeldales, but not all Romeldales are CVMs - confusing, I know, but after a while, it does sink in!

So, when comparing Romney fleeces to Romeldale fleeces, the first thing you notice is that the Romeldale fiber is softer/finer.  By breed standard, Romeldale fleece should measure between 21 and 25 microns - well below the 30 micron itch-zone.  Because the fiber is fine, it is also much less durable than the Romney.  The samples in the photo on the right are from Heidi's clip last year - you can see that not only is the fiber shorter than the Romney, but the crimp is also much smaller and higher frequency - which is another hint that the fiber is likely finer in fiber diameter.  A Romeldale/CVM fleece near the bottom of the breed range (at around 21 microns) would be lovely even for baby items, but if you made socks out of it, you would spend a lot of time and effort on socks that would wear through quickly - quite a disappointment!

Because the Romeldale fiber is finer, it is shorter in staple length - usually from three to six inches in a year - as you can see with Heidi's staples.  Also the scales on the shaft of the wool are smaller, and therefore don't reflect light as well - causing the Romeldale fleece to have less luster, in general, than the Romney fleece.  Purebred Romeldales also come in more colors than purebred Romneys, since you can find them in not only black, shades of gray and, of course, white, but also in browns and tans - something yet to pop up in the Romney genetics, if it is hiding there at all.

Overall, one breed isn't any better or worse than the other - they are just different, and their fleeces can be used for different purposes.  Their management is the same - at least on our farm! - and the ownership of the two breeds has provided us with a great combination of animals that can provide fiber for nearly any purpose.  If you have any additional questions, please let me know!

We've had our Romney flock for nearly ten years now, so we're fairly familiar with their management and needs - there is little anymore that totally surprises us in working with them.  That is not so true of the Romeldale/CVMs: we've only had them a few years, and only the last one or two years in any appreciable numbers.  Because of that, every once in a while we discover something new - something different - when we didn't have any idea!

This lambing time has brought just such a revelation....  We have come to that point at the end of the lambing season in which I sit down and begin to evaluate how things went, mathematically.  There was one thing that I've wanted to check out since the first week of lambing - something I started to notice in the very beginning.  Five of the first six ewes to deliver were Romeldales, and I noticed that only Grace, the Romney, delivered her lambs at about 148 days.  The others came later... some much later.

It was many years ago - probably the second or third year with our Romneys - that we determined that the gestation period for our Romneys was 148 days.  Actually, that isn't quite correct....  We originally determined that the Romneys' gestation period was 146 days when we were shearing after lambing.  Then, we switched to shearing before lambing the following year and discovered that it added two days to their gestation period, producing plumper and stronger lambs at about 148 days.

We made the assumption that the Romeldales' gestation period would be the same....  Romeldales include Romneys in their genetic breed make-up, so we just figured - well, we just figured wrong!  In the past couple of years, I don't think we had enough Romeldales to make the difference obvious to us, but this year we have nearly half of the flock delivering late - it's been pretty obvious!

So yesterday I sat down with my handy calculator and looked over the Romeldale flock, determining every ewe's actual gestation period this year - the time from her marking by the ram to the day she delivered - then added up all the time periods, and divided by the number of ewes to get the average gestation.  The results were just as I expected: the Romeldales have averaged 150 days gestation this year rather than the 148 days of the Romneys.

This will be a good thing to know for next year.  I can factor that into their due dates so that I'm not hanging around, waiting for them to deliver for two days before they would even reasonably do so!  When lambs are coming several times each day, it doesn't matter so much; but when there are a couple of days or more between (in the beginning and at the end of the season), then it's easier to know when I can and cannot schedule appointments if I have more accurate due dates.

People sometimes ask me about the similarities and differences in the two breeds.  Overall, they are very similar - other than their fleeces, of course - but they are about the same size, they eat the same, move the same, and have similar dispositions.  I guess the one difference I can now tell them is that the Romeldale gestation is a couple of days longer.  Good to know!

And by the way, speaking of Romeldales delivering, at the early bottle feeding this morning, I was greeted by Ivy and her new little lamb, Joy (who was not so little at over thirteen pounds!).  Although Ivy is not quite yet a yearling, she did a wonderful job cleaning up her new lamb and making sure she had fed - a very nice surprise at the crack of dawn!

It's almost time for the daily battle with sheep here on Peeper Hollow Farm.  For those of you who don't have sheep of your own, you probably have no idea what I am talking about; but those of you with sheep know that I am referring to feeding time.  This is the worst time of year for feeding sheep: the ewes are lactating, feeding their lambs, and desperate for as much nutrition as they can get.  We, on the other hand, are at the end of the hay-feeding year, hoping for grass to begin filling in the pastures. Our hay supply is dwindling, and because we don't want to run out, we weigh the hay that we feed and make sure not to feed more than they need; doing so might cause us to run short.  That is something that we can't allow to happen....

So when we go up to the barn to feed, the sheep all know it and are anxious for their share of the hay and grain - so anxious, in fact, that they will do just about anything to get that first mouthful into their bellies - and I mean just about anything!  It is much easier when there are two of us doing the feeding because the chaos is divided, with about half the flock attacking each of us as we carry the hay to the feeders.  During the week though, like today, I am on my own, trying to do what I need to do while under attack by about thirty desperate, lactating ewes, and nearly twice that many lambs!

To feed the sheep, we toss hay bales down the chute from the loft to the first floor of the barn.  The bottom of the chute is about five feet off of the floor, so the sheep can't get to the hay (thank goodness!) until we pull it out of the chute.  The problem is that we need four bales at each feeding, and can only stack two bales into the chute at any one time.  I usually drop two down into the chute, climb down the ladder, wade in among the frenzied sheep, and pull the first bale from the chute. 

By this time, the sheep are not only milling - they are climbing!  They climb each other and they climb me, trying to get to the bale of hay I carry in front of me.  I need to maneuver the bale and myself out the door of the barn and over to the first bale feeder - which I have prepared in advance to accept the bale.  Hopefully, when I get there, there is no lamb in the feeder (they like to jump in and see what their moms have left behind), and I can then lower the forty- to fifty-pound bale into the feeder - avoiding all of the ewes' heads in the process, of course!

Once the first bale is into its feeder, I have to go back for the second bale in the chute.  This one becomes a bit easier because at least eight ewes have decided that they already have a front-row seat at that first bale, so they drop out of the chaos....  The second bale goes into the feeder next to the first. Once I have the first two bales into the feeders, I position grates on top to prevent the ewes from pulling out more hay than they can eat (reducing waste), and I remove the twine that holds the bale together.  I don't pull the twine earlier because there are just too many crazy sheep pushing and climbing until the first two bales are in place.

The photo at right was taken last weekend as Rick was moving the second bale from the chute to the hay feeder - notice the teal grate in one hand and the alfalfa bale in the other....  You need to look closely because nearly all you can see is the crush of ewes trying to get a mouthful of hay!

If I can extricate myself after the second bale, I head up to the loft for the next pair of bales, which go easily into the chute.  Pulling the second pair of bales out of the chute and getting them into the feeders is in some ways easier, but in some ways harder than the first pair.  This time, I have many fewer ewes to fight with (they are all eating!), but this time all of the lambs gather around to see what all the fuss was about....  Trying to manage a forty- to fifty-pound bale of hay while dancing around forty or so lambs (and a few ewes) is another challenge I have become quite proficient at!  It often does feel like a dance, with lambs leading and me following their moves, making slow but steady progress towards the feeders.

Thank goodness, once I get all of the hay into place in the appropriate feeders, I can close the panels across the barn entrance, locking the ewes and lambs in while I spread the grain into the grain feeders.  Until just recently, I had to pour the grain out with ewes underfoot - just like the hay feeding - and it was always a contest to see whether I would get more grain in the feeders (where it belongs!) or on top of the ewe's heads, as they angled for the perfect position under the bucket....  Now, with them safely locked into the barn, I can spread the two buckets of grain into the four long grain feeders at my leisure, opening the panels when I'm finished and getting out of the way.  You can see the eews eating from the long grain feeders in the photo below.

I used to worry that the lambs would get trampled in the frenzy of the ewes getting to their grain, but I have come to realize that it works much like a flock of birds - they are all moving and somehow know how to stay out of everyone else's way.  There is no way I could do that myself, but the lambs somehow manage to avoid being trampled.

Once all of the lactating ewes are fed, the worst is over and I can focus on the ewes yet to deliver, the unbred ewes, and the rams, all of whom are in their own areas with their own feeders.  Because each of these groups is relatively small in size, none of them pose the challenge that I face with the lactating ewes.  I can peacefully move from one group to the next, feeding out their hay, topping off their water, and just plain checking everything out to make sure that all is well.

Every day, as the noon feeding time approaches, I begin to dread the pushing, pulling, and shoving that is so much a part of feeding the lactating ewes at this time of year.  On the other hand, I know they need to be fed to strengthen up their roly-poly lambs.  It is at this time of year that I really look forward to spring - lush green grass in the pastures and sheep grazing in the fields, caring not one iota what I am carrying in my hands as I move among the feeders.  Aah, those will be the days....

I have delivered a lot of lambs throughout the last ten years....  I didn't think there was much that could surprise me anymore, but I was wrong.  Yesterday, when Celeste went into labor, the whole experience was one huge surprise!

But let me set the scene before we get to what happened.  A couple of years ago, two weeks before we began lambing, our shearer brought in a disease, soremouth, that spread like wildfire throughout our flock.  The disease itself is very similar to chicken pox in people, but the lesions tend to come out most heavily around the mouth (hence the name).  Once the ewes got it from the shearing equipment, they spread it to their lambs as they licked them off at birth.  The lambs eventually got it so badly around their mouths that they couldn't suck, but before it got that bad, they infected their mothers' teats with the sores.  Those sores on the teats then caused mastitis (an infection of the mammary tissue).  As a result, that year we lost lambs who wouldn't suck, and we lost a lot of bags (or at least one side) on many of our best ewes.  It was a mess - one I would love to forget!

Last year, we culled out (sent to auction) the ewes who had lost their entire bag in the soremouth outbreak and could no longer feed lambs. Bottle lambs are just too much work and too expensive to make a habit of it.  We did keep, though, three ewes who had lost one side of their bags - they were all good ewes, and we hoped to get another ewe lamb from each one before we sent them along to auction, too.  We figured that they could at least feed a single lamb - or one of twins, and we would then bottle feed the other.  Celeste is in that group - she lost half of her bag to mastitis in the soremouth mess, and milk tends to come in very slowly on the other side.  She carries recessive color, although we have never had a recessively colored lamb from her.  She has also won Grand Champion Fleece at the Iowa State Fair more than once - I would love to have a recessively colored lamb from her, to pass those genes down to more ewes....

So, last fall, we bred Celeste to our new recessively colored ram from California - Goliath.  We had a 50% chance that it would be a ewe lamb, and a 50% chance that it would be colored.  Remembering back to my statistics class in college, I think that meant that we had a 25% chance of getting the colored ewe lamb I wanted - not a strong likelihood, actually.  On the other hand, if we had sent Celeste to auction last fall, we would have had no chance, so she is still here!  We knew she ultrasounded with only one lamb, so there would be only one chance to get that colored ewe lamb - it was a yes or no shot, and whatever it was, I knew I would most likely have to bottle feed it for at least the first few days.

When Celeste went into labor yesterday, things started out pretty typically....  She kept digging like mad to make her labor and delivery nest, and kept lying down and standing up because she couldn't get comfortable.  Usually, after a bit of this up and down, the amniotic sack will break and the ewe will move on to pushing the lamb out - otherwise, she pushes the intact water bag out ahead of the lamb, and you eventually see that instead of the lamb.  One way or another, you see either a gush of water or the water bag.  At least that's the way it's always been - but not yesterday.  I waited for hours, watching her dig less and push more, but all that I could see was an occasional glob of thick, paste-like stuff.  This was definitely not normal!

I decided that the only thing I could really do was see if the lamb was coming down the birth canal by gloving up and going in - something I do without much thought anymore.  I've done it so many times, and the result is always the same: you either feel the lamb, or you feel the water bag (like a water balloon) preceding the lamb.  Yesterday, however, I felt nothing.... further back, more nothing.... and then eventually I got to something that felt like Astro-turf!  I kid you not - it felt just like indoor-outdoor fake grass - kind of crunchy and crinkly.  Definitely not what I thought I should feel!  I decided to call the vet: I had too much riding on this one lamb for something to go wrong.  Of course, my vet was tied up, but they sent out good ol' Doc Robinson, who was helping to cover the office.

The funny thing is that Doc Robinson thought I was crazy - I could see it on his face as I told him the problem - until he reached in there himself!  Even he admitted that this was the strangest situation he had seen in a while!  He finally figured out that the crunchy stuff that we felt was, indeed, the amniotic sack - he broke it and delivered the single lamb: a recessively colored ewe lamb!!  I don't know how we got so lucky, but we did, and both Celeste and Jareau are fine.  I was up most of the night carrying bottles up to the barn for Jareau, but thankfully, we had several ewes deliver yesterday, so there is plenty of colostrum to go around.

So, thank you, Doc Robinson, and thank you, Celeste, for defying the odds and bringing us this beautiful colored baby ewe lamb.  To be honest, it isn't often that I take this kind of gamble, and even less often that it comes out in my favor!