Fáilte to Bree and Brosna!

On some level I knew Vienna was going to lamb on St. Patrick's Day, hence the Irish place-names search. There were subtle clues; slight changes in her behavior. Still, this was her first lambing at Boulderneigh, and her udder wasn't tight, so there was room for doubt.

I went to work Tuesday morning uneasily, but figured 1) she's an experienced ewe and 2) I wouldn't be gone all day. Of course, the first thing I did when I got home was check on her; she was just standing there looking at me like all the rest of the ewes, so I turned them out on pasture. Instead of grazing, Vienna hung out by the gate, tail slightly elevated. I went to the house and took care of some tasks, keeping an eye on her through windows, then went back to the fold to ready a lambing jug. Even if she lambed out in the pasture, Vienna and her newborn(s) would need a safe haven from bratty teenagers and cranky women when in the fold.

Vienna seemed to be waiting on me. I propped open the fold gate, opened the pasture gate, and asked her if she really wanted to go back in all by herself. She answered quickly and decisively, so I settled her in with water, hay, and a little grain.

I checked on her every hour or so, sometimes finding her standing and sometimes finding her down, but never finding her in obvious labor.

When I checked her shortly after 6:00 pm, something caught my eye. I checked closer, found her tail and the back wall smeared with just a little bright red blood. Hmmm; where did that come from? Nothing was presenting; her vulva looked unchanged. I called Rick; he suggested I see what I could feel. Again, nothing. Her cervix was dilating, but I couldn't feel any lamb parts.

Reluctant to interfere, I continued waiting and watching. If it hadn't been for that little bit of blood, I would have thought she was just taking her time to go into active labor, but that blood worried me. Finally, after chores, Rick decided to check things out – and found the cork in the bottle. A lamb had its head and front legs tucked down against its chest, apparently trying to come "withers first" – a physical impossibility. With effort Rick got its head and front legs up and pulled it out, but it was too late for the perfectly formed moorit ram lamb; there was no reviving him.

Back in Rick went, and came out fairly quickly with a moorit lamb that was alive, albeit with what sounded like a lot of fluid in its lungs and surrounded by meconium. I started working with that one while Rick went back in – to find lamb #3, very much alive and back-peddling just as hard as it could!

Vienna and I both worked on getting lambs 2 and 3 cleaned up and cleaned out, and I checked plumbing. Two ewe lambs! Now if only they survived the stress of their delayed entry.

I made sure both found the milk bar (Vienna is such a careful and accommodating mother) and headed to bed.

This morning, armed with monikers, I headed to the Sheep Sheraton. Nestled in the straw were two dry, alert lambs; hallelujah!

Brosna, with an audience

Brosna in the straw

Bree with Vienna

Late this afternoon after the other ewes had enjoyed pasture time, I let the little family out for awhile. Happy, happy Spring!

That's it for now from . . .