Dill is one of our favorite sheep. We have a few that really "stick out" from the herd. She is friendly. She will eat out of our hands. She is a good Mama.
Dill had twins this year and it has broken my heart to watch tragedy strike her ... twice.
First, one of Dill's twins simply disappeared two days after it was born. This is very unusual. We've never had it happen before. We had found the little lamb outside of the fence paddock earlier that day and put her back in. We can only surmise that she got out again, and being that they were close to the woods, a coyote snagged the baby. We found no sign of it ... anywhere. We searched and walked everywhere around the paddock and never found a scrap of evidence.
We don't notice that mothers grieve too much if they have another baby to tend to. So Dill kept caring for the second lamb, and all was well. She seemed to be aware that someone was missing, but it didn't seem to cause her much concern.
And then this morning we went out to move the sheep to their next paddock, and we found Dill's remaining twin deceased. Again, another mystery. From what we can tell, this one got tangled in the line and could not get out. It was probably being shocked continually or unable to get out of the heat. It was lying next to the waterer, one foot tangled in the line. It's head under the waterer. Something else we have never had happen before.
This time, Dill's grieving is relentless. As I type this, I can hear her baa-ing out in the field. She won't stop. It will probably be days before she does. She keeps walking around the paddock.
Looking.
Looking.
Looking.
Trying to find a baby that she will never find.
So many things in farming I feel that I have learned. So many emotions I feel that I have experienced.
But no matter how many times you experience things, the sound of sadness echoes through our hills tonight.
I'm so sorry Dill,
Dill had twins this year and it has broken my heart to watch tragedy strike her ... twice.
First, one of Dill's twins simply disappeared two days after it was born. This is very unusual. We've never had it happen before. We had found the little lamb outside of the fence paddock earlier that day and put her back in. We can only surmise that she got out again, and being that they were close to the woods, a coyote snagged the baby. We found no sign of it ... anywhere. We searched and walked everywhere around the paddock and never found a scrap of evidence.
We don't notice that mothers grieve too much if they have another baby to tend to. So Dill kept caring for the second lamb, and all was well. She seemed to be aware that someone was missing, but it didn't seem to cause her much concern.
And then this morning we went out to move the sheep to their next paddock, and we found Dill's remaining twin deceased. Again, another mystery. From what we can tell, this one got tangled in the line and could not get out. It was probably being shocked continually or unable to get out of the heat. It was lying next to the waterer, one foot tangled in the line. It's head under the waterer. Something else we have never had happen before.
This time, Dill's grieving is relentless. As I type this, I can hear her baa-ing out in the field. She won't stop. It will probably be days before she does. She keeps walking around the paddock.
Looking.
Looking.
Looking.
Trying to find a baby that she will never find.
So many things in farming I feel that I have learned. So many emotions I feel that I have experienced.
But no matter how many times you experience things, the sound of sadness echoes through our hills tonight.
I'm so sorry Dill,
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