One of the things you may not know about living on a farm is that sometimes, nature is cruel, and sometimes you feel called to step in when nature makes a hard decision.
On November 2, 2022, we awoke to what sounded like a baby crying in our front pasture. Upon going to investigate, we found that one of our ewes had given birth to twin lambs sometime in the night. As we had only had this ewe for a couple of months and had no idea she was bred, this was quite a shock to us.
One lamb, a large healthy ram, was up and following mama around. The other was a very small ewe lamb standing off by herself in the corner of the paddock, dirty and cold and LOUD. We scooped her up and quickly ran to the nearest farm supply store to get a bottle and formula.
Note to new homesteaders - it is critical to survival for newborns to receive an ample amount of colostrum (first milk) within the first 8-12 hours of life. Newborn mammals (of all species) are not born with a developed immune system, so they must get vital nutrients and antibodies from their mother's milk. This milk also helps to keep them warm from the inside out, and without it, they can easily succumb to hypothermia.
When we got home, we brought our little orphan lamb inside, and Paul pulled her close and wrapped her in a blanket against his own body to help share body heat while I fixed her first bottle. The first three days were touch and go as we had to teach her how to take the nipple. Paul slept on the couch with her to keep her warm and fed.
Before we knew it, our little orphan lamb had fully integrated herself into our pack. And our pack LOVED her! She also had fully imprinted on Paul, who was now no longer allowed to leave her sight. She would run through the house in her little cow-print diapers and plaid suspenders to follow him outside and "work the homestead" or walk into the shower with him because, how dare he leave the room and go somewhere she couldn't see him!
The funny thing about animals is they don't follow the stereotypes unless you do. What I mean by that is our pack consisted of two Rottweilers, three Cane Corsos, and a Lab-Weimaraner mix. As far as the little lamb was concerned, she was a dog. She ate when they ate (them - kibble, her - hay). She ran out the back door to play in the backyard when they did. And when it was time to play with the rope toy, she would headbutt it and try to "make it work". When they would lie down for a nap, she would curl up next to them and go to sleep. And when she wasn't running with the pack, she would sometimes amuse herself by jumping on the bed (like all kids do). Shout out to all my "Game of Thrones" fans, we named her Nymeria (because she thought she was a wolf in sheep's clothing).
As time went on, we started to notice things we hadn't seen on the morning we rescued her. She stayed very small, and her front legs didn't quite bend the right way. We also started to notice how she would hold her head at an odd angle. It never seemed to slow her down or hinder her in any way, but she definitely had some developmental problems and some slight deformities. (In hindsight, this was likely why mama rejected her.)
On the afternoon of January 25, 2023, we started to see that something was off with Nymeria. She seemed almost dazed and she was stumbling a bit. Within a couple of hours, the stumble progressed to no longer being able to stand on her own. She passed away that evening.
I don't know what ultimately caused her death, but I believe it started before she was born. I don't think she was ever going to live for very long. But we got to enjoy her antics (little miss sassy-pants) and experience the joy that was "all her" for a couple of months. I'm grateful we got to know her.