The Soay Sheep Chronicles

A number of regular and usually supportive readers, including my brother Jim, have expressed skepticism here and elsewhere about the notion of “jugging” and where it fits in the greater scheme of things.  One observer questioned the very existence of jugging, suggesting in polite tones that perhaps I made the whole thing up as a literary foil.

Make up jugging?  I don’t have enough imagination.  But in the interests of family harmony and to dispel any lingering doubts, here is an actual jugging dance featuring Gala and her twin lambs, Darrowby and Thirsk, a few days ago.  After a suitable musical introduction, let’s say 8 bars with a trumpet fanfare and a drum roll, Steve begins the dance by donning his blue gloves, picking up the lamb(s) and inching his way backwards towards Gala’s assigned recovery room — her jug de jour.  

Steve tries to keep the lambs no more than about a foot from Gala’s nose, to be sure the olfactory link is not broken.

Even at this early stage, it is apparent Gala’s lambs are not light phase (tan) as she is, but aren’t they cute?

Almost all our ewes hesitate at the gate into the jug, torn between following their lambs and the fear of being “trapped.” 

The lambs always – no exceptions — win out!

With the gate shut and the sun shining, Gala can go back to the business of cleaning and feeding her little brood in relative tranquility.

Technical note:  The photos have not been subjected to PhotoShop (not that I’m against PhotoShopping, but I couldn’t have improved on this set even with Adobe’s help).

Naming note:  We waited patiently as our RBST/British lambs arrived one by one, saving Darrowby and Thirsk, the literary and literal names of James Heriott’s town, for a particularly nice-looking set of twins.  Now I can write to my new friend Anne, who I have ignored for several weeks, to report on the litany of lambs with melodious names from Yorkshire:  Appleby, Bainbridge, Boltby, Borrowby, Chopdate, Follifoot, and the list goes on, each temporarily housed in a jug and each welcome at Saltmarsh Ranch.

 For now … 

Quite by accident, I found myself a couple of days ago in the Maternity Ward with my camera just as Sandpiper started to lamb. Our first year as shepherds I dutifully photographed every birth, but no more. A person can get worked up about a still shot of an amniotic-sac-covered lamb just so many times in her life. But soon after Sandpiper’s first lamb arrived, it became clear another one was on the way, so I started clicking, and I am glad I did. Here is Sandpiper nudging her first lamb back towards her udder for the all-important initial meal of colostrum.

Not much news there; any self-respecting ewe will clean off her lamb and get it eating as soon as possible so it will stay warm and thrive.

But look again at Sandpiper’s back end. See those little black and white things sticking out of her vagina? Those are lamb #2’s front hooves on their way out of the birth canal. Is Sandpiper paying the slightest bit of attention? Nope, she’s too busy taking care of lamb #1.  

Next picture, less of lamb #2 shows here, probably between contractions, but Sandpiper seemingly takes no notice in any case, no matter what her body tells her is about to happen — again. She is still busy with lamb #1 and determined to get him jump-started before she turns her attention to her second lamb.

In the next photo, still no lamb #2, so Sandpiper has just enough time to get lamb #1 feeding.

Actually, even though lamb #2’s hooves are back out in the next picture, Sandpiper stays on task and finishes licking the membranes off lamb #1.

And it’s a good thing Sandpiper stayed focused, because by the time I could take the next picture, the second lamb was on the ground. Lamb #2 is the yucky-looking slimy black mass in this picture.

Now, finally, Sandpiper is satisfied that lamb #1 can fend for himself for a few minutes, and she turns her attention to lamb #2 and starts the cleaning-licking-nudging process all over again.

Just a few minutes later, the little family of three is all cleaned up and ready to go.

As you know from reading my last post about lamb games, lamb #2 (Cascabel) actually wandered off about this time and Llucy had to fetch him back. In this picture, you see Cascabel turning away from Sandpiper and getting ready to strike out on his own.

Why he did that we will never know. We do not see this kind of wandering very often in a newborn. The ewes each have a unique gurgly-meowing-baa sound that only the “right” lamb responds to, and the lambs each have a slightly different baa sound as well. Whatever possessed Cascabel to go exploring, with Llucy’s help he was reunited with his mother and all was well and remains well. But let me tell you, once Sandpiper finished her double lambing, she chowed into the hay like there was no tomorrow. There is tomorrow, however, and it will come soon enough for the pregnant ewes who have yet to show off their multi-tasking skills.

 For now …