I love barn mornings. First light, soft and diffused, filters in through the clerestory on the barn’s east side.
Clustered in little pods, the lambs nestle in the straw, bathing in warmth.
Light fills the space. Lots of languid stretching as the lambs shake and rise, some more reluctantly than others . . . .and within minutes the barn comes to life. Ewes paw and call for grain. Lambs begin to rustle and race. It’s one of my favorite moments. . . .
Although this morning, one lamb did not rise.
Issey was second in a pair of twins born last evening. Preceeded by brother, Miyake, Issey arrived encased within an intact bag of waters. I saw him take his first breath before the membranes ruptured, drawing a lungful of amniotic fluid rather than air. Working fast, I cleared his airways and shook him to expel the fluid. It was a good few minutes before I could detect the rhythmic rise and fall of breath within his little form.
My friend Chris stopped in just in time to witness me shaking a newborn lamb upside down by its hind legs. As I worked with the lamb, he rigged a heater box in the corner of the pen. While lamb number one was monopolizing his mom’s udder, lamb number two was visibly trembling, not good, given the warm evening. Too weak to stand, let along nurse, it was clear that this little guy was spiraling downward.
A newborn lamb needs colostrum as quickly as possible after birth. A ewe’s first milk contains antibodies which are absorbed through the lamb’s stomach and flow directly into the bloodstream. This ewe, Sage, was light on colostrum, but I milked what I could.
When a lamb is too weak to nurse, intervention is necessary. The best way to give nutrients is directly into the stomach via a feeding tube. This isn’t a procedure I like to perform. When sliding a rubber tube pass the soft palate and down the esophagus of a newborn lamb, one must be careful not to inadvertently slide the tube into the lungs. The last thing this little lamb needed was another lungful of fluid.
The tubing process has always made me . . . . nervous. Chris looked a little nervous too when I told him he was going to help. As Chris supported the lamb and held it still, I slowly fed ten inches of tube into its mouth and right down into its stomach. When I blew softly into the tube, we could feel the stomach expand, telling us we were in the right place. I attached a 2 ounce syringe of warm milk to the end of the feeding tube and carefully pushed the plunger. We returned a rather limp and tired lamb to his mother and crossed our fingers. By this time, the first lamb was also pretty wiped out, so together they crashed beneath a warm light. My guarded hope was that mother would take over with both lambs, once they awoke.
During my midnight barn check, both Issey and Miyake appreared to be sleeping peacefully, with their mother stationed closeby. All seemed well enough. When I checked their pen this morning, however, only one lamb was on its feet nursing.
It’s hard to say if Issey ever made it up to nurse during the night. Before feeding the rest of the flock, I stomach tubed him again. Within minutes, he opened his eyes and peered unsteadily at his surroundings. I tried placing him on his feet, near his mom, but his spindly legs collapsed beneath him. Not good.
With a barn full of hungry ewes demanding breakfast, I placed him back under the lamp and went to feed the flock.
Holly and I worked with Issey throughout the day, in between other tasks. At 3 pm, he still had only fed via the tube and, since I doubted he would survive another night, I felt a trip to the vet was in order. Wrapped snuggly in a towel, ensconced in a grain pan, Issey rode beside me on the front seat of as I drove to Doc Schmitt’s. I was not optimistic.
A quick exam showed that pneumonia had set in. Coupled with lack of nourishment, things were not looking good. Still, Doc felt it was worth trying a shot of antibiotics and continuing with tube feeding for one more night.
So that’s where we are. As Mike and I inspected all the lambs at the end of the day, we were feeling a bit deflated. Raising animals has ups and downs – we’ve been doing this long enough to know. But still, it’s hard when you care so much about your sheep – you really want ALL of them to be well – and it’s especially hard watching a young animal languish. Tomorrow morning may tell the story for Issey.
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copyright 2008 Barbara Parry, Foxfire Fiber & Designs. All rights reserved.