Fast forward two weeks.  I was out photographing the latest arrivals, nearly all rams to my dismay, when off to the side I spied a little bitty lamb scrambling up the edge of the “high” platform in the feeding area of the Maternity Ward.

Guess who was out exploring again?  Mind you, Otley and her mom, Tolcarne, long since were kicked out of their jug to make room for new arrivals, so this time Otley’s wanderings were at least sanctioned.  On the other hand, making her way to the hay feeders was a futile gesture, since she will not be ready to eat solid food for awhile yet.  Did that stop her?  Not our little Otley.  Soon she stood behind the row of ravenous ewes who were refueling before the next round of nursing started up. 

In the good old days, any self-respecting drug store featured a variety of dairy products at the soda fountain, but I suspect none provided the array of options Otley thought were hers for the picking.  I was not able to capture in still photography her several efforts at poaching off someone else’s mother, but suffice to say she soon figured out she was not invited to anyone’s “house” (except Tolcarne, of course) for lunch and she resigned herself to a mid-day snooze.  Otley is the little lamb to the right of her larger and more experienced cousins, none of whom, it appears, had succeeded in pilfering someone else’s sack lunch either. 

And last but not least, for those of you who thought I was making it up when I said the miniature Otley could make a lot of racket from the first minute she hit the ground, put away your skepticism.  Here she is letting the world know – again – that she is a force to be reckoned with.  Move over, Nora, Madonna, Dolly, Eartha, and all the other great throaty chanteuses.  Otley intends to claim her rightful place in the singers’ pantheon, thank you very much.

For now …   
 

As the chief observer of all things Soay on our farm (that just means I don’t do the heavy lifting like building fences and shelters), I have filled my head with a lot of practical knowledge about the actual care and feeding of Soay. The time has come to share what I have learned with other people so I can reassign these brain cells to new tasks, Soay-related and otherwise.

What’s the topic for today? Just introductions, since the sun is setting and it is time to figure out what’s for supper. But over the next few weeks, I plan to talk about specific ways of dealing with our Soay that have worked for us in hopes they will help you, too.

Time to run. I’ll be back in a day or two to dig in and start the Soay Sheep Chronicles.

Priscilla Weaver