We are at the tail-end (get it?) of lambing season. These little creatures are wonderful to watch - after napping and following their mamas all over the field, they gather to play. If you've never seen a gang of twenty-plus lambs playing follow the leader - jumping up and down on rocks, bumping into each other and springing straight up into the air to kick their rear legs out, you should include it on your list of things to do.
Our trainer spent ten days in Scotland and she invited us to use the sheep while she was gone. What a hardship, huh? One of the days my friend, Anne, and I were working a flock of sheep in the large lower field. The ewes and lambs were up on the hill in the neighbors' field (why cut the lawn when you can borrow the farm's sheep?). They were very noisy but we thought that was just the way they were acting that day. After a little while we heard a man's voice yelling, "Lady! ...something, something, something..." I thought he lost his dog "Lady." Finally this strange little man appeared from behind the barn shouting "your lamb is hanging itself and the fence is on!"
Anne has a broken bone in her foot but we both took off up the hill at breakneck speed. She said she would find the battery (powering the electric fence surrounding the field) and turn it off. The little man tried to lead me through the briars to get to the upper field but in his attempt to be polite he kept getting in my way. As I pushed past him I asked how bad the fence hurt when he touched it. He said he felt it "clean through my shoulder."
As I was lifting my leg to jump over the fence (yep, willing to sacrifice my chacha) Anne yelled the fence was off. I jumped the fence, ran over to the lamb who was swinging from a volleyball net by her neck. Her little back hooves were tippy...hoofing? on the grass. I have never handled a crisis like this but as Anne was racing up the hill toward us, I grabbed the lamb, turned it around, straddled her between my thighs to support her body weight and worked the twine from around her neck. The mama and sibling came up behind me and I expected to get rammed in the butt which fortunately I was wrong about that. As soon as the lamb was free, I set her down and she ran bleee-ing to her mama who snuggled and sniffed her. Mama and babies dawdled off without so much as a thank-ewe (sorry!). Anne and I were very pleased with ourselves, doing some (lower your voice) real farm work.
Whenever Anne and I see this little baby we smile because we know we saved her. By the way, with the neighbor's permission we tore that stupid volleyball net right down! I don't know if the bad weather had stretched it out or it was just old but it was an accident waiting to happen no longer.
Now whenever we go to the farm, the little man conveniently makes his presence known. I think he has a crush on us farmgals!