It has been a very hot week.  The sheep are each drinking over a gallon of water each day, and spending their days lying in the shade to keep cool - all their grazing is taking place in the early hours after sunrise and then late in the day as the sun sets.  Jolt and his friend, Janus, came up to the barn on Monday because of parasites, and spent the week keeping cool there.

The advantage to putting them in the barn on these hot days (besides the fact that they are near to the house!) is that the barn is purposely built into the side of the hill to keep it cooler in the summer and warmer in the winter.  We added a ventilation fan to suck out the hot air through the cupola when it was built, and we run it most of the summer to keep the inside of the barn fairly cool.  It does seem to work pretty well, as our thermometer tells us that it is typically about 10-15 degrees F cooler in the barn than in the shade outside of it.  In addition to having to medicate Jolt and Janus, we decided the heat was another good reason to keep them in the barn until we saw a nearly-complete recovery.

Since my niece, Heidi, has been staying here with us all week, her job has been to collect eggs each morning, and she has been taking a side-trip to the barn at the same time to check on the two ram lambs.  Every morning, we have celebrated the fact that they seemed to be making progress, eating hay and generally looking perkier....  Every morning until yesterday, that is.  When Heidi went up to the barn yesterday morning, she hurried back down to tell me, "Either Jolt is sleeping really deeply or I think something is wrong."  My heart fell as I ran up to the barn to check.

Heidi was indeed correct.  Jolt had died just a short time before we checked the barn yesterday morning.  As a result, Janus was quite nervous with no other sheep to "flock" with.  Even as I mourned Jolt's passing, I knew I had to act quickly due to the heat we expected later in the day.

I bundled Jolt up in a tarp to protect him from flies and turned my attention to Janus - we had to return him to the flock in the pasture, and we had to do it before it got hot.  As you may recall, he didn't have near the anemia that Jolt had when we brought them in - Janus was ready to return to his flock-mates.  I caught him, picked him up, and carried him to the bed of the pick-up where I loaded him in.  When our lambs are this small/young, we just put the cover over the pick-up bed and load the lambs into the covered bed - they are small enough to be able to stand in the bed with the cover above them, and  I feel confident that they can't get out.  In the warm temperatures that morning, I knew I couldn't leave him there for more than a few minutes, but we were only going 1/4 mile to the pasture gate to release him - we had plenty of time.

Janus happily rejoined his flock-mates when we opened the tailgate.  Later in the day, we decided to deworm the entire lamb flock to make sure that there would be no surprises of anemia while we have others caring for our flock in the coming week (since we are leaving the farm to friends and family as we go on vacation tomorrow).  As I dewormed the lambs in the pasture, I checked inside their lower eyelids to see whether there was any other lamb in the group as anemic as Jolt.  They all looked fine....  I did have a few that were slightly anemic, but there was nothing severe - nothing needing specialized attention in the barn.

So, in addition to learning about all of the many jobs on a farm like ours, Heidi also got a lesson about life and death.  We had a bit of a talk as we processed what had happened yesterday - how we bring life to the world in the spring when the lambs come and celebrate each one, then we celebrate again as select lambs leave for their new homes as breeding animals.  Along the way, we sometimes lose one or two, and that is part of the way life works - eventually, everything dies, and we mourn those lambs who are with us only a short time - and are happy that there aren't many.  We shed a few tears and then get back to work because there is always something that needs to be done - and the work helps.

Last night, as the sun began to set and we dewormed the remaining lambs, we took a short break to look around and celebrate those lambs that are still here with us.  In fact, that was about the time when January came up and began chewing the hose for the dewormer - a reminder to get back to work and finish up so that we could focus our attention on her!  The presence of a bottle lamb always seems to help, too!

It is at this time of year, when there is little work outdoors among the sheep, that I begin to plan for this year's breeding season.  I've chosen the ram lambs who will join our ram flock for the coming winter, and I've identified the cull ewes and the ewe lambs who will replace them.  It is now time to determine which of the group of ten rams will actually have a breeding group this fall, and which of the ewes he will get.

Using ram lambs to breed ewes during the first fall after the males' birth is a bit controversial - and not because this is some kind of Mrs. Robinson thing!  The issue is that they are not yet full grown.  Although we have seen how they've grown during those first six or eight months, we still don't know what they will look like as adult rams at two or three years of age.  Using such a young ram risks putting unwanted genetics - that haven't shown themselves yet - into your future lamb flock.  Even a yearling ram gives you a much better idea of what that ram will look like and the fiber he will produce, compared to the first-fall ram lamb.

On the other hand, our lambs contain our very best genetics to date - or should!  We strive for genetic improvement each year, so the faster we can get those lambs into service, the faster we will continue to see improvement.  This goes for both ewe lambs and ram lambs - one of the reasons that we do breed our ewe lambs.

So, it is with these thoughts in mind that I sit here trying to decide what to do with Josiah, one of this year's Romeldale ram lambs.  He has a lot going for him:  he is beautifully built, with nice straight lines and a regal stance.  He is the son of Hope, a brown ewe, so he likely carries brown genetics that I would like to spread further among my flock.  He seems to have gotten the better fleece traits of both of his parents, with a gorgeous luster to his fleece and a lovely handle.

An interesting trait among the CVM/Romeldale breed is the fact that they darken with age.  Usually, colored sheep are born black or brown and then lighten with age, adding more and more white fibers to their fleece.  This is similar to people, who go grayer and grayer with age as our hair coloring fades out.  In the case of this breed, they are born looking very similar to any of the other breeds, but usually will add more color as they age. 

This is definitely true of Josiah, who was born with a badger pattern* and a lot of spotting, as you can see in his birth photo at left.  The fleece on his back was a creamy white with little or no color to it.  At a very young age, he was identified as a possible future flock ram, based on his genetics, rate of growth and his conformation.  The problem was his very pale coloring - if I wanted a white fleece, I would select a white ram!  We decided to wait and see what happened with his fleece in the first year.  When we sheared him with the rams in June (just in case he darkened and we might decide to use him this fall), it was already obvious that his fleece had begun to change color.  All of that white fleece on his back was infused with light and dark gray "freckles," creating a variegated fleece (see current photo at right).  I suspect that, by the time we shear him next June, his fleece will be a variegated gray fleece with very little of the white that was so dominant at birth....  But that is only my suspicion.  I cannot at this time be sure what he will look like!  I only know what I am seeing now.

One thing I can be sure of, though, is the fact that he wants to work!  For the past several weeks, he has been escaping from the lamb flock and making his way over to the ewes.  The Romeldale/CVM ewes are very likely already cycling and are ready to breed, and he knows it.  Josiah seems to have discovered some time ago that he is a ram and that they are not, and he knows just what to do when he gets there.  If we have fall lambs, we will know who sired them - we have had to remove Josiah from among the ewes several times, already!  He is now trapped within mesh fencing with the rest of the lamb flock to keep him from escaping yet again....

So, here I sit, wondering whether Josiah should have his own small breeding group this fall to see what he can produce, or whether the better plan is to use the two other adult rams that I have and leave Josiah for next year when he will be a yearling.  He does have the desire.  He does have the fleece and the color.  And he does seem to have the rate of growth and the build - at least at this point in time.  Well, I think I will let him have a few girls and see what he does....  We can only hope that he will prove himself, and we will end up with a wonderful group of lambs who all inherit his best traits - we can only hope!

*Josiah's badger markings consist of dark eyes, dark muzzle, striping down the sides of his face, a dark underbelly, and dark legs. Some sheep display one or the other of the remaining two badger markings: dark chest from chin to underbelly, and/or dark area under the tail.

We originally got our first sheep to have something to help keep down the height our grass...lots of grass.  Those first three sheep could in no way keep up with our acres and acres of grass, but now, with eighty-six sheep currently grazing my fields, they are getting pretty close at times!  We've taken the ten or eleven acres of grass that lie around the house, barn, pond and timber and divided them into eight grazing areas through which we rotate the sheep. Hopefully, next year we will add enough permanent fencing that we will subdivide some of the bigger areas so that we have ten pastures to use - but that is then, and this is now.  We currently have our eight.

One of the better pastures is directly in front of the house - between the house and the pond, bordered by the driveway and the east fence of the West Pasture.  Over the years, all of our pastures have picked up names; this one is called the House Pasture, probably because it is only about thirty feet from the front porch of the house!  The biggest problem with this pasture, however, is that it has little fencing around it - this is one of those future projects that we need to get to!

On Friday night, in anticipation of our upcoming vacation, we moved all of the lambs into the House Pasture, as part of their rotation. Because the north and south boundaries are not fenced, we set up temporary net fencing that we bought from Premiere 1 Supply about eight years ago.  It is very easy to set up, and I love to use it with the adult sheep.  The problem is that we've had issues when we've used it with the lambs.

In years past, we used this fencing a lot - we had only two pastures fenced at the time, so we used the temporary net fencing whenever we grazed any of the other parts of the acreage.  The problem we encountered was that sometimes lambs decided that there was better grazing on the other side of the fence - kind of our own version of "the grass is always greener...."

One time, I went to check on the lamb flock, only to find one of our lambs entirely caught up in the net fencing: head, legs, and body.  This fence is energized to deliver a strong electrical charge periodically to make sure the sheep stay back.  The lamb lived but she was weakened, and it took nearly a week of nursing in the barn before I could return her to the flock with confidence that she was OK.  It is the long wool on our lambs that keeps the shock level low enough that they attempt to find a way though.

There was also another time, years ago, that we found a lamb tangled in the fencing, and that lamb did not survive.  It was that summer, with two lamb entanglements, that we decided to use the mesh fence either not at all or on a very limited basis with our lambs: only when there was exceptionally good grazing inside the fencing, and only if the fencing was installed at the side of a driveway or mowed area where the grazing was not enough to entice a lamb to push their head through the openings in the mesh.

We no longer use this fencing with young lambs (as we did that summer), only after lambs hit about 70 pounds. And even then, I am outside checking the fence and their grazing multiple times a day so that I can, hopefully, prevent any problems from becoming severe.  All of this was on my mind yesterday as I walked out onto my front porch (to the view at left) to let the dogs out and to check on the lambs in the House Pasture....

When our three dogs leave the house, they barrel out of the door, barking and yelping.  I know that sounds crazy, but we have a fox den across the road and, long ago, that fox would occasionally find its way into our yard.  One day, years ago, the dogs came out to find the fox near the chicken coop, so they chased it back to the timber across the road.  Ever since then, they seem to think that the fox is still out there waiting for them to chase him, so they come barrelling out - just in case!

And so it was, yesterday, when I let the dogs out to do their business while I checked the lamb flock.  As the dogs barrelled out of the house, barking and yelping, the sheep (of course) all ran to flock together at the far corner of their alloted pasture, afraid that the dogs were after them!  They all grouped together in the far southwest where the dogs could not get near to them.  All, that is, but one small lamb who continued to lie there, unmoving....

I was a little concerned at this point, but not yet terribly frightened....  Many things came to mind, including the idea that this lamb could merely be sleeping.  The problem was that the sleepng idea lasted for only a few seconds, and then the other options came full-force into my brain; things like electrocution by the fencing, a coyote or stray dog, heat stroke from the high temperatures, and on and on....

I walked over to the edge of the fence closest to the lamb and hollered for it to get up and rejoin its flock.  The dogs, of course, came to help me, so the lamb was treated to a chorus of yelling, yelping, and barking,  but it just lay there, looking pretty darn flat.  Flat is not a good thing for a lamb.  When they are found dead, they always look pretty flat to me - it's like when the life leaves them, there is nothing to keep the body together, and they just flatten out.  Anyhow, now I was really worried....  If this lamb wasn't getting up for three dogs and a person within about twenty feet yelling at it, then this was not good!

I got the dogs back into the house and turned off the electric fence so that I could climb over.  Martin, Zoe, and all of the other lambs were still bunched together in their corner, wishing - I am sure - that I would just go back into the house so that they could continue grazing....  I made my way over to the flat lamb to find out what on earth had happened.  I couldn't believe that we had lost a lamb - we just don't lose lambs when we've gotten them this far!  As I got to within about five feet of this black ram lamb, he suddenly popped up, looked around for his friends in a panic, shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and ran, skipping and leaping, to rejoin his flock!  So much for having lost a lamb!  Thank goodness!

This whole story does underline a fact of life here on the farm, though.  Life to us is extremely precious - be it lamb, or sheep or dog or chicken or person!  Life is something to be preserved.  It can also be fleeting.  I've learned that death is a natural part of life.  Regardless of my efforts to sustain life and keep death away, it sometimes comes uninvited to rob us of some of that life we hold so dear.  The boundary between life and death can be suprisingly narrow - at least in my experience.  I have come to acknowledge that death is a part of farm life, but believe me, it is the one part that I still struggle to accept.  The good thing is that, this time, I was wrong.  This time, instead of facing death, that little lamb got a good, sound sleep - a much happier alternative!

Bottle lambs are a fact of life on most sheep farms.  Most shepherds - myself included - avoid bottle lambs when at all possible, but the sad fact is that things happen and, occasionally, you end up with a lamb or two who must be bottle-fed.  Many shepherds will sell or give away their bottle lambs to avoid the work and hassle that is involved, but we have always worked through any issues that arose, trying to keep those lambs around.  Over the years, when this situation has come up, we have become creative in trying to push the bulk of the work back onto our ewes.... 

One time, we "grafted" the lamb to another ewe who delivered only a single - fooling her into thinking that this was her own lamb by sliming it with her own fluids during delivery, and tying three of its legs together for the first ten minutes or so.  The lamb was wet and struggling like a newborn trying to stand - she took him as her own and then greeted her own true lamb, who was actually born minutes later.  We always thought it funny when, at times, she seemed almost proud of her very "smart" firstborn who was so "advanced" in comparison to her second son.

Other times, we have - when necessary - fed lambs by bottle, but housed them with their mothers in the barn.  The mothers still raised the lambs, teaching them all things sheep-like, as we provided nothing more than the nutrition.  Harmony was one of these lambs two years ago - Celeste had lost function of half of her bag, so only had enough milk for one of her twins: Heavenly.  We began bringing bottles out to Harmony that first day, but Celeste was still her mother, and still raised Harmony as a sheep - albeit a friendly one!

This year, we ended up with three bottle lambs for various reasons.  Jasper was unwanted by his dam so we had to act fast - bottle rams can turn mean as adults, inevitably ending up in the meat industry as lamb or mutton.  We castrated Jasper (to avoid the meanness issue) and adopted him out to Hailey, who had lost her own ram lamb, Joshua, at about the same time.  The adoption was not one of our most successful placements, but Hailey took over Jasper's care for a while at least.  She no longer had any milk, so we provided the bottles, but she watched over him and cared for him for several weeks.  He definitely had no illusions about the fact that he was 100% sheep!

Jareau was Celeste's single lamb this year and encountered the same problems that Harmony had two years ago: Celeste had no milk for her.  Celeste did, however, take very good care of Jareau, mothering her and teaching her to be a sheep.  Although there will always be a connection between Jareau and me, it is definitely the connection between a sheep and a human, and always will be.  We are friendly, but we are not the same.  She has her flock, and I am only occasionally part of that life.

And then there is January...our sweet January.  January was also refused by her overwhelmed mother who had triplets this year at her first birthing.  January was the last born, white after two black lambs, and her mother immediately decided that she was the odd one and an intruder.  Within minutes of birth, it was obvious that January had to be moved away from her mother (who continually bashed her into the walls of the pen).  As tired as I was that day in the middle of lambing, her new home became a box in the laundry room of our house.  In essence, January became my baby - at least for a couple of weeks.

While all of the other bottle lambs in our past were mothered by a sheep, January is our first "house raised" bottle lamb.  By the age of two or three weeks, she was back in the barn with the other sheep, but by then, she had already figured out that they were sheep and that she was not. She was my child, and I lived in the house - where she had been raised!

It has been for months, now, that our sheep have been out on pasture with very little human contact.  Jareau has mentally become fully a sheep, grazing with the rest of the flock and skittering away when I come near.  If I call her, she will look at me, but will no longer come forward.  It is only the enticement of food that will pull her to my side, away from the flock - and then usually only when Harmony and some of the other more friendly ewes come forward at the same time.

But even after all this time, January is not really a sheep....  If she hears my voice outside, she immediately scoots under any fences and runs across pastures until she finds me.  If she can't get to my side, she calls, waiting to hear my voice in reply.  When we move sheep for grazing, Zoe and all the other lambs run ahead, knowing they are going to fresh, clean pasture, with Coda (my border collie)  and me bringing up the rear of the group, Coda on my right.... Oh, I forgot to mention: January is also in that picture...  She's the one walking happily on my left! 

Coda has long since learned that he is not allowed to bite January  - even lightly - to "teach her" to move away from dogs.  She will put up with a lot of biting to be able to walk at my side, and it became pointless to try to teach her otherwise.  Coda and January have since fallen into an uneasy agreement that shows itself whenever we move sheep: Coda walks on my right, and January keeps close at my left.  Coda will not look at January in that position - it is too much of a failure to him to have a sheep so unconcerned with his close proximity!  January, on the other hand, is convinced that Coda must be another of my "children" and keeps trying to make eye contact with him.  The interaction - or lack thereof - is endlessly entertaining as we walk the sheep to their new pasture every few days!

As to how this whole situation with January will turn out is anyone's guess.  I really thought that, by now, January would only have a few fond memories of her time as my bottle lamb.  In actuality, she is now more like a dog than a lamb.  If I should stop as we are walking together, she will stop with me.  If I walk out to the mailbox from the house, she will run from the far timber to join me, and walk with me to the road, staying close at my left side.  Whenever she first joins me, I welcome her by scratching her face, neck, and belly - if I forget, she jumps up onto me with her front hooves on my legs, wanting her "loving."  In fear of what this behavior will turn into as she approaches her adult size, I have begun welcoming her immediately when she arrives, and scratching her only if she keeps all hooves on the ground....  The last thing I will want/need next winter would be a two-hundred pound pregnant adult ewe jumping up on me with her hooves to get scratched hello!

When, after some time together, it's time for me to re-enter the house, I walk January back to the nearest fence in the direction of her flock.  Somehow, once I do this, she knows it is time to return to the sheep world that she normally inhabits, and she begins her trip back to the flock, scooting under fences and through pastures.  I usually stay and watch until she returns to the fold, with the llama greeting her at the fence. I would hate to think that a stray dog or coyote might get her before she found her flock, so I stand there and watch - and I find myself remembering. Years ago, as my children walked themselves into their first school, I stood there at that time and watched, too.  Even then, I was making sure that no 'predators' would harm them along the way.  Maybe there's a good reason she still thinks I am her "mother"....