That Rotten Isabella

The baby ewe was staggering around this morning when I woke up. Not great (she should be walking), but better than lying still, panting and expiring. But two hours later, she was panting, then expired.

As I thought about this ewe's death, I remembered the vague information I have about her mother. The first year of breeding opportunity, she didn't breed. The second year (last year), she bred but didn't care for her lamb. We have that lamb (our little Maybelle), but I don't know how the previous owners kept alive the baby when the mother was uninvolved.

Isabella's genetics aren't the best, either. Her wool is the most inferior; her wool fell out in patches (perhaps she's more susceptible to parasites, or just won't thrive on our marginal pasture?). And her Maybelle is decidedly smaller than her birthmates.

From my perspective, Isabella should have been culled, if not the first year, at least the second. She won't be on our farm much longer (we'll either bring her to the sale barn or eat her).

In retrospect, I can see why I was confused: Isabella was calming munching hay while her newborn lamb lay, still covered in amniotic fluid. I've never seen this before: most mothers care for their babies until they are certain the babies are okay. Then they eat. So Isabella's unconcern made me angry and concerned.

On the other hand, she mostly stuck near her baby. If I carried the baby away, she called for the baby. Yesterday afternoon, though I didn't see the baby nurse on her own, she appeared to have a full belly, like she'd eaten well. So Isabella didn't seem like a mom who totally rejected her baby.

It was confusing, and I don't know what else I could have done. Larger operations can find surrogate moms, but I don't know much about that.

We think we'll keep Eve. Despite her imperfect birth record this year, that certainly could have been mostly my error. She gets another chance.

And I'm praying for Tsarina's birth, that she will have at least one healthy ewe to replace the soon-to-be-culled Isabella. Tsarina (or Zara) is my favorite of the Babydolls, and I would be so happy to have a healthy ewe from her. I milked Isabella for all the colostrum I could this evening (which wasn't much), in hopes of having a little boost for Zara's newborn(s) when the birth happens.

Phil and I planted trees. Nineteen more. The burning sun exhausted us, so mid-afternoon we all headed down to the creek. It ranges from about 18 inches to about one inch, and all seven of us had a good time wading. Jadon even submerged a few times, and came up looking chilly but pleased with himself.