Among my writing and mediumship duties, I have spent the last few years raising sheep and learning how to be a “gentlewoman farmer.”  As you can imagine, there has been a huge learning curve in this endeavor! My rewards besides the cute little newborns, is the opportunity to learn many lessons!

To explain further, let me start at the beginning. I purchased two female dorper sheep (ewes) from a neighbor. Dorper sheep are considered “hairless.” This doesn’t mean they have no hair; it just means they do not have to be sheared. Instead, their hair comes out in clumps anywhere they press against- like the fence (so your fencing starts to look like a dirty hairbrush.) Oh well, at least there’s no shearing to do.

My first black and white dorpers were named Joy and Happiness, which I shortly thereafter bred with the neighbor’s ram. Five months later, Joy gave birth. I was so excited to finally be a grandmother! Well, sort of. I finally knew what all my friends were talking about when they discussed the joys of being a grandparent! (Lesson: grandparenting is a joyous experience.)

I named my first-born grandchild, Love. But the name was quickly changed because he was a ram and started ramming everything and doing other unscrupulous acts mere weeks after he was born! (Apparently they are born with these tendencies.) I decided Rambo was a more appropriate name.

Shortly thereafter, Happiness gave birth and graced me with two ewes, aptly named Kindness and Trust. (I had a theme going here.) So I had my own ready-made flock of sheep from which to start breeding. With four ewes and a ram, it didn’t take long for Mama Joy and Mama Happiness to give birth again. 

This time, Happiness had triplets! What fun! One was black, another tan and white, and the last one was all tan. Joy gave birth to a tan and white ram. Most of the newborns ended up being rams so they went to the market, except for the one we intended to harvest when he was one year old. (This is the politically correct term for enjoying them for dinner.)

Another year passed and it was going well as I kept the females, and the boys went to auction. Somehow in my infinite wisdom, I thought more would be better. (Lesson: this isn’t always the case.) I surmised that I just needed more ewes to speed things up. My neighbor obliged this time by trading one of my rams for her ewe. 

The vet had suggested that we only breed our sheep during a two-month period every year. Before that, I was letting them have conjugal visits all year round. This had resulted in births anytime of the year, including the cold of winter and the hot of summer. The vet said if you limit the visit to two months, then you can keep them on a schedule for all the shots and deworming more easily. This seemed like a reasonable suggestion because keeping track of all the sheep in the first place was hard enough. They all had names, and I recorded their birthdays and who their parents were and their siblings. Keeping track of their CDT #1 and CDT #2 shots and then their deworming schedule was a bit cumbersome!

Now fast forward to this year. We bred 10 female sheep during a two-month period, carefully planned with our vacation schedules in mind. All 10 ewes gave birth; some had twins.  The total number of new baby lambs was 13! Lucky number, right? Well, not so much we learned.

For starters, our sheep pen (where they all spend their nights safe from coyotes) is only 16’ x 16’. Luckily, they didn’t all give birth on the same day. We did have twins and a singleton born on the same day by different mamas though!

For the first two or three days after giving birth, we keep the newborns and their mama in the pen during the day. We do this to help the babies bond to their mothers, and so the mothers can get some much-needed extra food, water, and rest, away from the rest of the flock.

One of the newborns was a ram we named Brownie because he was…surprise…brown! He was a cutey! One day, in our quest not to have to mow their field (again!) we gave the sheep a bit less alfalfa. They were upset and knocked over the heavy metal feeder. Brownie’s mama and one of his little playmates were crying and making a big fuss while they raced around frantically looking for something. When I went out to see what was wrong,  there he was. Unfortunately, little Brownie had been underneath the feeder when the older sheep knocked it to the ground, crushing him in the midsection. It was heartbreaking. I showed his body to his mama and playmate, hoping they would get closure, not knowing if animals need the same thing we humans do.

We buried him at the rear of our property with the gratitude to have known the little creature, even for such a short time. We also made a solemn vow to be more careful and do whatever we could to prevent such disasters in the future. To that note, we secured the feeder with some strong wire and posts. (Lesson: take precautions, be careful, and learn from your mistakes.) This small action no doubt helped to save the future newborns, as Brownie was one of the first in the season to be born.

Another unfortunate incident was when one of the young, first-time moms had a really small baby and it did not thrive. Mama didn’t seem to want to feed it after the first day. The newborns get weak very quickly if they can’t find and suckle the teat for enough nourishment! That baby died the first week. It was so sad. 

Then we had two sets of twins, where the mamas only nourished one twin. The other failed to gain weight and succumbed to either a disability or inability to seek nourishment. Only one of the twins seem to flourish. (Lesson: it’s God or nature’s way of releasing the weak.) It seemed only the strong survive. 

We did not like these changes. We were upset to lose four baby lambs. In fact our backfield was being dug up every week to bury one of the poor creatures, but eventually we saw the wisdom in God‘s ways because God will never give you more than you can handle! Loss of multiple births, or even one birth is more than some can handle, and it was definitely more than we could handle looking back. 

This whole experience has been filled with lessons. We love our animals, and we spend time with them daily petting them and talking to them. We clean their pens and provide fresh water and food twice a day. Basically, they are spoiled rotten! 

However, at some point we realized this was just way more than we could handle. It was exhausting and heart-wrenching! Finally, we relented and contacted a breeder who had purchased some sheep before, and he happily rounded up five of them and escorted them to their new home. This helped greatly with the morning chores and the feed bill. But most of all, I learned to figure out my limit and 10 to 15 sheep is the limit. (Lesson: Learn your limits and seek solutions.)

Next week we will be rehoming 3 more sheep where they can flourish with a new family. This will reduce the flock even further and make room for the next lambing season. As I advance further into my 70’s, we will reduce the flock even more. It’s pretty hard to catch a 100 lb. animal to give it shots and deworm it. I have learned my limits. This reminds me of my earlier quest for more baby lambs. (Lesson: be careful what you wish for.)

This lambing season, I learned that 13 is not always a lucky number. Thirteen baby lambs in one season is  a miracle to be sure, but it is just a bit more than I can handle even with the help of my loving partner. 

Thankfully, God took care of our challenge.