"Ignorance is Not Bliss"

This is "Boone," he was one of three lambs born this year to "Freckles."  He has a brother that looked almost identical although he was polled, and a big sister that looked nothing like the two boys.  They were born very healthy.  My mother helped me with the lambing, it was her first time seeing a lamb born.  She told me the next morning, "I wouldn't have wanted to leave this earth without seeing this, thank you."  How fun that evening was for us.

As most of you know who have followed my blog, we breed and raise sheep.  We sell most of our lambs for meat, we raise a few for close family/friends, and we keep a few for good breeding stock, with desirable traits. Now that I've discovered spinning the fiber into yarn for projects, that plays a role in which sheep we keep and which ones we sell as well. 

No matter what the outcome for the lamb, we raise all equal. We practice good husbandry skills and provide excellent care to each.  We often have a waiting list of people who want to buy "our" lambs. 

We sold this lil' guy yesterday to a couple near our home.  Both moved here from California, apparently they've raised chickens before, possibly a steer or two.........so they've told us........  Late last summer they asked us if they could purchase a lamb from us after it was weaned.  I was a bit hesitant as I could tell from speaking to them, they really didn't have much common sense when it came to livestock (or chickens for that matter).  However, to be fair in my assessment, I gave her books to read on raising sheep and I told her to "google" anything and everything to educate herself on sheep.  From a physical standpoint it looked as though they were getting into the project of raising livestock.  They purchased an additional acre of land, fenced it (and re-fenced it), build a small shelter large enough to house a steer and sheep, bought a feeder, a water trough and hay.  They put some money into this little venture of theirs.  When the time was nearing for weaning, I asked her to return the book(which he said they had been reading), and pick the young lamb up at 7a.m. on August 13th. 

A day prior to the sell date, the neighbor guy called to tell me that they couldn't come pick up this lamb until 10 a.m.  That wasn't good news for me as I don't feed any of my animals if one is getting transported, it's hard on them to deal with the stress on a full gut.  Gives them a tummy-ache.  Plus, "The Man" and myself had two surveying jobs to do that morning, over-time for him and a chance for me to help him.  Also we had to get back at a reasonable hour to accept two squeezes being delivered to our hay barn that afternoon.  This "10 a.m." time frame wasn't working for us..........so with a bit of protest, the neighbor said he'd be here at 8a.m. 

"The Man" and myself got up early, had our couple cups of coffee and then went out to the barn.  I always send an animal off with trimmed hooves, a worming shot, and a shipping fever shot.  I do this early enough to make sure there is no reaction to any of the shots.  All was fine with "Boone" that morning, his temperature was good, he was ready to go to a new home. 

The neighbors showed on time(thank goodness), and "The Man" did his magic on "whispering' to his sheep to calm them.  He caught "Boone" without a hitch............however, about that time the neighbor opened the gate into the barn, and stormed in with his "noose" in hand which he abruptly put around the lambs neck, scaring the dickens out of the other sheep.  Until the lamb was placed in the back of the truck did I notice the tightness around his lil' neck and the fact that his ear was cinched down in the tight mess.  I told the neighbor to "take the tight rope off his neck, sit with him in the back of the truck and try this knot, something that allows him to breathe if he strains against it."  He didn't tie the new knot, instead he held the lamb and they drove off down the road. 

You know when you have a little voice inside of you telling you something?  I didn't listen to that yesterday.  I regret that today.  GOD spoke to me yesterday and I just "blew him off."  Pride and a promise I guess.  Our Border collie even spoke to us and we didn't listen.  He was very stressed the lamb was leaving and baaing in the back of the truck, to the tune of running the fence line crying as they drove off.  It took awhile to calm him, those are his lambs and he bonds with them from the moment they hit this world.  He's the only dog I allow into a lambing jug after lambing, he needs to smell them, lick them, bond with them, he does and the ewes are not in the least bothered by "Blue," they know he is safe.

The neighbors showed at 8a.m. to pick up their lamb, the sweet lamb perished by 9a.m.  I keep asking myself, "how did this happen?"  Ignorance..........lack of education, arrogance, pride...........all of the above.  That was the voice......it told me to tell them I had decided to keep the lamb, raise it for ourselves...........I didn't because I had told them I would sell one to them.  I suspected they weren't educating themselves properly, I was right.

The lil' lamb should have been transported to their ranch, confined in a small corral for about three days and allowed to acclimate SAFELY!!  Instead, the lamb was tossed out in an acre pasture with a huge Hereford steer while the couple went indoors to do..........????  Evidently the lamb slammed his head into the welded livestock panel several times to the point of knocking itself out and collapsing in exhaustion.  By the time we noticed them loading the lamb up in the back of the truck, we went over and asked, "is everything o.k."  Response, "No, we're taking the lamb to the vet, he hurt himself."  I will spare you further details on the injury to this lil' lamb, we suspect a broken neck.  He was scared, wanted to go back home to his brother, mother and sister, the ranch he knew and loved..........his lil' life was premorse.

I will blame myself for not listening to "the lil' voice inside me," and for having suspicions about a couple not educated in raising sheep. They had this ideology that you could just "buy and animal, throw it in a pasture, fatten it up and all would be well."  No common sense came into play here, no observation over the lamb when they took it home, no clue what to do with a lamb once he was down (they didn't move him out of the hot sun (91 F.) for over thirty minutes), they put him in a truck which had been in the hot sun, untethered, with no pad or blanket, and hauled him 17 miles from home.  The sheep vet in town was five miles away. 

This could have been prevented with proper "know how" on raising sheep.  This could have been prevented had I not sold him to this couple. 

We've learned a valuable lesson here, one I will never make again.  I'm sorry sweet "Boone," so sorry.

"One act of pure love in saving life is geater than spending the whole of one's time in religious offerings to the gods.........." --Dhammapada

"The greatness of a nation and it's moral progress can be judged by the way it's animals are treated."--Ghandi

An Old Soul

A calf looking in the front door of the ranch house......"where's my mama?"

What inspires us as individuals to "take up" a way of life, a passion...........and why us?

 My passion for "ranching" has long been with me.  For me, it started as a young girl.  Probably, thinking back, from the time I was 7 years old. I think of myself as an "old soul."  I can't remember feeling any other way.  My whole life has been building to this crux...........owning land, livestock, gardening, canning and living "the old ways."

For me, animals are the highlight of my day.  It gives me  "purpose" to care for them, treat them when they get sick, help the "girls" with their lambings should they need me............seems mine always do, for support if nothing else.  If you've never looked into the eyes of a ewe when she's ready to lamb, you can't know the depth of her "want" for you to be there with her.  Even if it's just sitting in the corner of a lambing jug, speaking quietly to her, coaching her through the lambing process.  It's one of the greatest feelings anyone can experience.  When an animal lets you know that it's "o.k." to be there with them during a difficult time, that's the ultimate.  

When your three day old calve sees you as his surrogate mother.  He'll follow you anywhere, nudge you for more milk, suck on your fingers for security..........even sleep on you.  That to, is the reason I do what I do.

I love when I return from a day gone from the ranch, the three dogs greet me at the gate ever excited I've returned to them, and they no longer have to be in charge of the sheep..........they bounce around, howl with joy, expect pets when you get out of the car.

Picking my own heirloom veggies from my garden(veggies now big and grown from seedlings I started back in winter).  Trimming and cleaning them in preparation for the canning process.  Experimenting with recipes and pickling brines............because I have canned for so many years, I have the confidence to "tweak" a recipe.  Washing my full jars after they've set for 24-hours and sealed.  Lining them up on my cellar shelves, knowing that I'll have fresh tasting fruits and veggies for the cold winter months.

Making my own sourdough starter (now over 12 years old) and making homemade artisan loaves of bread for "The Man" and myself.  Nothing is finer than having homemade sourdough biscuits with homemade plum, apricot, peach, blueberry or apple butter jam.............along with fresh eggs from my hens, and homegrown bacon or sausage from our hog.

Having a wonderful clothes line with an incredible view of the mountains, the BEST part of hanging my clothes out to dry.  The gray water from the washer draining into the orchard to water the fruit trees, while also providing drinking water for the many animals that wander through our ranch land.  I make my own cleaning and washing supplies so that I tread a bit lighter on our earth, eliminating many of the harsh chemicals that most "store-bought" supplies have.

My love of reading books rather than watching T.V. (my daddy used to call it the "idiot box!").  Cutting our own firewood for the long winter months, as it's the only source of heat we have........in 85 years, no resident of this ranch house has deemed it necessary to provide heat in any other way...........hmmmm?  I know why, because wood heat is the warmest heat!  My joy of putting on a pot of soup or stew in the winter on the ol' woodstove and simmering it all day.

To many people, this may sound like a lot of hard work, and I'll admit....not always do I want to hang my laundry out to dry, or make our bread, or even can.  But once I get started, push myself to do so, I'm happy.  I just had a "lazy moment" when I wanted to fudge on the task.  Then, from out of nowhere, I think about my ancestors, my "people," and I think.........what if they hadn't done what they needed to do for a day, a week...........?  Maybe none of us would be here.  

GOD gave us each a day to live in fullfillment.  I don't think he intended for us to sit in front of a T.V., a computer, an electonic game, or on our bumms!  He expected us to spend time outdoors everyday, working the soil, breathing the air, walking, working, cooking healthy meals, spending time in quiet respite and reflection............for me, it can only happen in a garden, "one is nearer GODS heart in a garden than anywhere else on earth."

But truly, my life has always been focused aound my two children.  They ventured into this journey with me from the day they entered this world. This lifestyle I live isn't something new to me, I've been living this way for many years...........by choice.
   I lived in Washington state on a remote five acres, my children grew up there. I grew a large garden, canned, raised animals, shovelled my own snow, dealt with frozen water pipes, dug myself out of the snow when stuck in my ol' truck (I was seven months pregnant on one such occasion)  I also worked, and attended college all the while being a single mom. My children rode a school bus for over three hours daily during the school months.  It was dark when they got off the bus and dark when they got on, they had over a mile walk back into our lil' homestead everyday.  Winter time, I met them out on the county road. They had just enough time to eat a home-cooked meal, shower, do homework and go to bed...........only to start over the next day.  My two children learned my work ethic............work hard, play hard and spent time alone everyday, so you have something to "bring to the table."  They are incredible young people and I love them beyond measure.  They are successful, educated, and productive individuals. They are kind, compassionate, smart, and very loving. We spend time with one another often. I'm a proud mama, I'm glad that my children appreciate how I've raised them.  I'm glad I've left them a legacy, something they can always "fall back on" and know how to.............


On any given day ask my children, "Has she left you a legacy? Has she inspired you to be your best? Are you strong in character and physical being, strong in faith?"  I know that answer..............

"Dreams come a couple sizes too big so you can grow into them."

P.L.O.M. People

Sunday out at the ranch we had a family meal with our kids and grand kids.  It had been over a week since we'd seen our daughter, she had been attending a week long conference in Scottsdale.  There were ten of us, we had a family style meal outdoors at the picnic table, something I always grew up with.

My daughter and I finally got around to talking about her conference, she really learned a lot and enjoyed it.  She especially liked the speaker at the conference who was from Kentucky.  She told me a lil' story about this women, it got me thinking about my family..............all those Southern relatives of mine!

My grand daddy, Grady Henry Noland, was born in Sherman, Texas.  He was the baby out of seven children.  His mother who was originally from Georgia, raised her seven children mostly by herself.  Her husband was a drifter, who would leave her for years at a time and then one day...........just surface again.  The family made their living as sharecroppers.  Traveling where and whenever there was work, so they moved often.

My granny, Bertha Ann Coursey/Noland, was born in Wyatt, Louisiana.  She was the fourth child of twelve children.  Her mama was Cherokee, English and French.  Her father was Irish.  They too were sharecroppers, moving often.

Both families eventually landed in Marked Tree, Arkansas working farms.  That is where my grandparents met and married.  We have a large family cemetary in Jonesboro, Arkansas, not far from Marked Tree.

Eventually my grandparents moved to Arizona. My grand daddy eventually started making his own hard, earned cash by building lil' shotgun houses for the soldiers during the forties.  This eventually earned him enough to buy a small ranch and build a home for the family.  He raised cattle. 

The speaker at the conference, told the group about her mama's favorite word..........it was "P.L.O.M. people"............which stood for, "poor lil' ol' me."  I grew up knowing things like this, it's something that happens when you are raised by Southerners.  Sayings like: "gettin' all the good and plenty out of something," meaning you had to wear it out before you got another.  "Shit fire," which my grand daddy said when something went wrong, the only cuss word I ever heard him use.  I say it now, but tame it a bit with "shoot fire," my middle grandson likes to use it also........frequently!  "Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit," when you couldn't believe something, kinda like "all be."  "Sister," his nickname for his daughter, "Poor lil' ol thing," something usually said when you didn't like someone or were gossiping about them. There were many lil' ol' sayings,  my point being, that life with Southerners is never, ever dull!!!  They certainly keep a conversation full of life and humor.

Now I've met P.L.O.M. people before, you know, the ones that constantly complain about their woes.  Whether is be an illness, a wrongful deed done to them, things just not going right for them............we've all met them. In fact, I have a neighbor that is a P.L.O.M. person, in all honesty, he drives me nuts!!  I can't talk to him for too long, because before you know it, he's rollin' in his own self-pity, I figure he doesn't need me for an audience, he's his own, "one man pity party." Usually when he corners me,  I listen for a wee bit and then tell him I've got somethin' burnin' in the kitchen and quickly depart.

Now I'm a darn positive girl most of the time.  I thank GOD everyday when I wake up, just for the sheer fact that I DID wake up!  Another day to enjoy time with my grand babies, kids, husband and.................our lil' ol' ranch.

My point is that I'm very proud of my roots, I'm very proud of my grand parents for etching out a nice life for themselves when all odds were against them.  I'm proud of the fact that I was able to spend so much time with my grandparents, we were close.  I spent my life eating some of the BEST Southern cuisine ever..............ham hocks and pintos with cast iron cornbread (my granny made the BEST!), fried okra, turnip greens cooked in bacon grease for hours on the stovetop, lima beans and ham, black-eyed peas, fried chicken and fried sunfish, watermelon with salt, homemade ice cream, cornpones, drop biscuits with homemade jams, meringue pies of all types, iced tea by the gallons drunk out of quart jars iced down, homemade mac and cheese, pickled goodies. 

I miss my grand parents, there are so many things I would love to ask them now that I'm older.  One thing is for sure, I'm proud of my "people" and I'm proud to share that Southern gift with my "sister" and "boo"...............Jessi Ann and Jared Thomas (aka J.T.) 

A Spinning Wheel for Katie or Confessions of a Spinning Addict!

This is my newest purchase....a traditional Ashford spinning wheel.  It's a single drive, made in New Zealand, probably a 1960's model.  I think I got a very, very, good deal on this spinning wheel from a very, very, nice lady I know.

I bought this wheel from a "blogger" friend, shepherdess friend, and email friend. It was my first time to actually meet her in person, along with her significant other, and all her beautiful sheep and lambs.  What an education I got that day.  I can't say enough about learning a "new" craft.  I'm a firm believer in keeping the ol' noggin in good working order by always educating self, and learning something new, something that feels good to spirit, that sings out to your soul. Thus my desire to purchase a spinning wheel so the joy of spinning would go a bit faster for me.  You see, I'd always spun fiber with a drop spindle...............now I know that's an art in itself, but what a joke!  Give me a spinning wheel anyday!!!

In my short 2-3 hour visit with K.L. a master spinner herself, I learned sooo much in such a short time.  K.L. is truly a great teacher, a patient woman, a kind soul.  I learned the parts of the spinning wheel, I learned little tricks of the trade so to speak on a wheel, I learned how to spin, how to wash fleece properly, how to oil "the machine," how to thread the machine, how to ply, also knitty knobs and lazy kates, AND.....which way to spin cut fleece!!!  Now I know why she is a Master spinner with the Endowment of Arts, she's phenomenal and I like her a lot.

This is a flyer and a bobbin on a spinning wheel.  Isn't it pretty??  This is a top view to give you an idea of how it works and how the fiber looks once spun.  The flyer goes around wrapping the fleece onto the bobbin as I peddle with my foot.  It's a pretty intricate ordeal if you're not good at multi-tasking, but with time and practice, you too can spin fleece into yarn.The blue rubber band is off a bunch of fresh broccoli, it is used for the tension, I can either tighten or ease up on the tension depending on the fiber and how fast I want to spin.....which isn't fast at the moment, but I'm o.k. with that because right now, I enjoy the feel of the machine as I work the fleece and learn the wheel. Fast is a later date for this spinner.

I also learned that the flyer on the wheel was engineered with the help of Leanardo di Vinci............who knew and isn't that cool?  Also in the washing process of wool, the spinning cycle of the wool is called, "wuzzing."  Washing fleece is called, "scouring."When spinning, you always spin to the right, ply to the left (aka "sinister").  Plying is when you join yarns on your wheel. 

The parts of a wheel: Bobbin, Flyer, Maidens, Mother of All, Tension knob or brake, Wheel and Hub, Footman, Peddle, Leader.......I'm having a blast with this wheel, I'm in love!!!

This morning I pulled up my Farmer's forecast on the weather for our area.....and guess what?  It's going to be really windy on the high plateau today....awww! The garden is watered, the sheep, steer, and chickens are already fed so........... I'm spinning today just for the "shear" (no pun intended) joy of spinning my fleece into yarn!

SONG FOR THE SPINNING WHEEL

Swiftly turn the murmuring wheel!

Night has brought the welcome hour,

When the weary fingers feel

Help, as if from faery power;

Dewy night o'ershades the ground:

Turn the swift wheel round and round!

Now, beneath the starry sky,

Couch the widely-scattered sheep;

Ply the pleasant labour, ply!

For the spindle,while they sleep,

Runs with speed more smooth and fine,

Gathering up a trustier line.

Short-lived likings may be bred

By a glance from fickle eyes;

But true love is like the thread

Which the kindly wool supplies,

When the flocks are all at rest

Sleeping on the mountain's breast.

William Wordsworth (1770-1850)                 

"The Bean Tree"

This is a "bean tree."  It stands seven foot tall, it's made of green willow, and it's my own creation...........well the idea of a trellis isn't mine, but the "bean tree" is.  I've used these for many years in gardening.  However, when we moved from our home in Show Low to our home in the country...............I left my "bean trees" behind, I've been kickin' myself in the hinny ever since.

Yesterday after getting three lil' grandkids up, fed, and ready for their departure from the ranch, "The Man" asked me what I wanted to do for the day.  I told him I'd think about it while he was returning the lil' chicks back to their parentals.

I knew the garden was getting planted over Memorial week-end (as it has for many years), further my greenhouse is being taken over by my heirloom beans with names like: Ram's Horn, Greasy Grits, Anazazi, & the beloved, Giant Speckled.  The runners on these beans are lovingly embracing my heirloom tomato plants and squash.........boy am I ready to plant!  So it only seemed right that "The Man" and I spend a very windy day, along the rivers edge, cutting willow.  I used the lopers, he used a saw.........pretty soon, we had a  truck-load of fresh, green, willow for my craft.

These "bean trees" are NOT hard to make, we can usually whip one out in about a half-hour.  I need ten by next week-end!!  We strip four branches, lay them on the ground and measure seven foot, then cut. We then stand them upright, get the feel of the willow and it's best fit, then start screwing pieces together at the top (think of a tepee).  Once the top is screwed, we make two layers of bracing at different heights on the "bean tree."  Sometimes we criss-cross, sometimes we square off.  Once these are completed, we sink the legs into the earth by about six inches and I plant the heirloom bean in the middle of the "tree."  Then I hang a homemade device from the upper portion of the "tree" to distract birds from my bean plants. 

These "bean trees" work like a charm and they are good for many, many years.  Once the bean plant has started it's upward climb (to the height of seven foot or more), and blooms.........you have a beautiful, piece of art in the garden.

My next garden art will be a loom.  It's part sculpture, part loom, part wildlife attractor and is six foot high and three foot wide  The vertical strings (the warp) are garden jute  The horizontal threads (the weft) are woven in from any materials you want........mine will be wool fibers combined with grasses, flowers, and stalks from my garden. I will weave willow, amaranth, echinacea, and sunflower stalks, dill, zinnias, and black-eyed Susans.  Friends, family and grandkids are all welcome to gather to weave rows on the sculpture. 

The spark of love, the joy of connection, and the knowledge that we are a tiny part of the whole tapestry is amazingly powerful. 

So.............get your creative juices flowing and share your ideas!"When we are motivated by goals that have deep meaning, by dreams that need completion, by pure love that needs expressing............then we truly live life."---Greg Anderson

"Because Kindness Matters"

There are times when people do something unexpected and you're blown away by their insight and kindness.

Last Monday while driving home from Phoenix, "The Man" and myself stopped at a convenience market to purchase some water and candy.  It just happened to be on the reservation.  As we pulled in, a young cowdog was in the parking lot, completely stressed, obviously nursing some young pups somewhere, and she had this very worried look on her face.  I hopped out of the vehicle and said, "hi pooch, where are your babies?"  "The Man" looked over at her and said, "you need to get along and go feed your babies."  This particular convenience market is a busy market.  Cars were pulling in one after another to gas up and head to wherever...........no one really paid any mind to the lil' bitch, but it was obvious she wanted something from someone, anyone!

As I approached the check-out line, I asked the cashier what the deal was with the dog.  He said, "she's a stray, feral, animal control has already hauled her off, but then they realized she had a litter of pups somewhere so they had to bring her back and let her go, you know, she has to nurse those pups."  I asked him, "does anyone know where the pups are?"  He said "yes, they're right over yonder near the creek, out in the desert." 

 We finished our transaction, I turned to head out the door, when "The Man" grabbed by shoulder and said, "head on out to the truck, I'll be out in a minute."  I stopped on my way out to the truck and called the dog, she was so frightened, and headset on her mission. About that time, "The Man" comes out of the market with a big, fat, juicy hot dog in a bunn.  He blows on it, the lil' cowdog is salivating, pacing, hungry.  One at a time, he pinches off lil' pieces and cools them, then tosses them to her.  She is terrified to get too close to him, but the temptation is too much for her, she is hungry.  She gobbles the last of the hot dog and bunn down and backs up a pace, looks at the man and decides he's o.k.................she comes over to him, rubs up against his leg and walks away to beg from others coming and going. 

With a glisten of a tear in his eye, we head out to the truck, get in and resume our trip back up the mountain.  I don't say a word.  When we get home, check on our own animals and head into the house, I turn to "The Man" and tell him, "these are the things you think of and do, unconditionally, that make me love you so very much."  We kiss, hug and head off to retire for the night, it's been a long day.

I love you very much!  You are a special human being and I'm thankful everyday for you.

"The Cycle"

This is sweet "Kitchi" minutes after birth.  His name is Algonquin for, "brave one."  Brave he was, as was his mother, "Gracie."  He was 11# at birth.  He is a Jacob/Churro lamb.  He has very curly, jet black fleece, with dapplings of white.  He will have horns as it's in his genetics.

At 10 a.m. last Friday, "The Man" came into the house and told me to come check our ewe "Gracie."  We knew she was soon to lamb but weren't quite sure when.  When I approached the lambing jug she had chosen, she was in obvious signs of labor.  I assumed she was in the first stage of labor and would present a bag of water soon.  "The Man" and myself stayed in the jug with "Gracie."  We timed a half hour, cooing and speaking softly to "Gracie" giving her words of encouragement, this was her first lambing.  About fifteen minutes into the labor, I realized something was amiss................a thought that had plagued me for most of her pregnancy.  Another push from the ewe and I saw................one hoof! 

I quickly scrubbed up, went back outside and did a check on her.  The lamb was crossed up, what shepherds call "dystocia," meaning an abnormal or difficult birth...........little did we know, it would be both.  As I reached further into the ewe to locate the position of the other leg, she went down on me.  It's so much easier to correct and manipulate a "crossed" lamb when the ewe remains upright.  I did finally locate the other leg, which was further in her and bent.  Once freed and pulled down to meet the other hoove, I reached back in to locate the head.  It was stuck............BIG time.  Everytime I let go of the hooves to try and free the forehead, the lambs legs contracted back inside her.  This is the point in time that "The Man" gets his first experience with helping "birth a babe."

I had "The Man" hold onto the legs (which were a smidgen of the way out), while I further tried to help the ewe with her delivery.  Try as we might, the lamb was stuck!  We are both getting nervous as "Gracie" now isn't responding to a whole lot.........I'm fearing shock as we have worked on her now for approximately 10 minutes.  Finally, I ask "The Man" to let me have the legs, I push the lamb further inside, rotate a quarter turn and let him have the legs back.  Re-entry tells me we can now start pulling slowly.  We are both, literally sweating now, pulling and finally, out pops the head of a very sweet lamb..............he's moving..............thank you GOD.  Another moment and he is fully delivered.  I quickly place the lamb at the mouth and nose of the ewe......to no avail.  The ewe is "spent" and unresponsive!

The lamb is covered in meconium so I realize he's been in the womb too long.  I turn him over to "The Man" for clean-up and resume with my ewe.  I'm cooing her, checking her respirations, telling her to "get up."  Finally, "The Man" who is emotionally spent now, moves over and gently pushes her telling her to "get up."  She does...........oh thank GOD once again.  She is super weak.  She doesn't want anything to do with her lil' boy lamb.  We are worried.

After interminable hours, we get the ewes energy back up to snuff, give shots of penicillan, vitamins, molasses water.............she then finally takes a "sniff" of the lamb..................then a "lick" of the lamb...............then a "nuzzle" of the lamb..............longer than should have transpired, she finally let's her babe nuzzle her breast................colostrum finally in his belly, tired from his entry into the world..............they lie together and sleep. 

After four days in a lambing jug with her son, "Gracie" has turned out to be a very good mother.  She's attentive, let's him nurse as often as he wants, and will stave off other jealous ewes to protect. Fortunately for "The Man," myself, "Gracie" and "Kitchi," no signs of infection are present, he is now bouncing around although very shy with the other lambs (who are much bigger than him at this point).  He's eating alfalfa, sleeping and thriving.

This will be "Gracies" one and only babe.  She is too tiny (due to her own crippling as a lamb) to ever bare another.  I can't nor won't put her through another ordeal like this one.  Do I get rid of her, do I keep her?  I don't know the answer to that question yet................however, I will follow "my heart" when that decision needs to be made.

Welcome to the world, "Kitchi," you are a "brave one!" But then, your mama beat all odds in her own life!!!!