“There’s No Action”

Chorus, Elvis Costello’s “No Action”, from the 1978 album “This Year’s Model”

Tuesday afternoon, 3:30, sitting at my desk and the phone rings.  Caller ID says it’s me calling.

Me (at the desk): “Hi.”

Peg (on the phone): “Dolly’s getting started. I think you should be here.”

Me: “I’m on my way.”

By 4 pm I’m back at the farm, changed into barn clothes, and we’re up in the barn injecting Dolly with 60 cc of calcium gluconate. What’s going on?

Dolly has been our most prolific ewe – twins (Ella and Nash) in 2013, triplets (Christy, YooHoo, and Scotty) in 2014, and triplets again in 2015. Sadly, none of the 2015 triplets survived. Beginning in 2014, we noticed that Dolly really doesn’t show many signs of labor.  No contractions. (For those of you who know the Elvis Costello song, sing along with me – “No Contractions, No Contractions, No Contractions. Every time you’re pregnant, you don’t wanna push them out.”)

So we’ve gotten used to helping Dolly along and pulling out the lambs.  It worked in 2014, but in 2015 she lambed on a cold night and the only one that came out potentially viable had been in the birth canal too long and her body temperature was dangerously low.

After the 2015 lambing season completed, I met another sheep farmer, Bud, over lunch. I shared the story about the triplets that didn’t make it.  He replied, “Every time we think a ewe is beginning to go into labor, we give her a shot of calcium gluconate – makes her muscles contract.” Now we had learned about calcium gluconate as a treatment for calcium deficiency a few weeks earlier when the vet came to farm because Martha was walking around stiffly – she injected the stuff under her skin and she improved in a few days. But we didn’t know that it could help with contractions.

So, back up in the barn, Peg had read that it takes about 30 minutes for the calcium gluconate to kick in. With nothing to do, we headed back to the house. Peg went back to the barn around 4:40 and radioed back to me that she’d like to “go in”. We agreed to wait until 5. By then Dolly was shuffling back and forth a bit but nothing else.  Peg poured disinfectant on her hand, added some lubricating gel, and was ready to go. I put my arms around Dolly’s neck to keep her in one place – but she really didn’t fight back much at all – and Peg went in.  She found two hooves and a nose, which is good, and started trying to pull them out. After maybe a minute or two, she said she didn’t think she could do it, but Dolly started doing some pushing, and at 5:10 Peg pulled out a pretty big, dark ewe lamb, and Dolly proceeded to start her licking and nickering (Dolly has always been a top notch mom).

OK, what next? Peg noticed a sac come out and fall on the hay next to the lamb, and a few minutes later we saw two more sacs hanging between Dolly’s legs.  Each fetus has a red fluid filled (not blood) sac associated with it. Uh oh, triplets. To be honest, we really don’t want triplets. Often, not always, one of them will need to be bottle fed.

After about 15 or 20 minutes, the ewe lamb is up on her feet. That is a very good sign. A few minutes later, I put my arms around Dolly’s neck again and Peg gets the lamb to suck a little on one of Dolly’s extremely swollen teats.  Another good sign. In the past, Dolly (and other moms) has tended to go about 45 to 60 minutes between lambs. But Peg is too anxious, so she goes back in and pulls out another ewe lamb at 5:45, saying something like “wet bar of soap” as she pulls the lamb to the hay floor. Dolly goes to work again licking and nickering, but splitting her time between wet, slimy #2 on the floor and mostly dry #1 walking around her.

Around 6, Peg (who is a little tired) announces she needs to take a break and take Jack for a short walk. There really isn’t much for us to do at this point – Dolly will get #2 on her feet and we’ll go in for #3 in about another half hour. While Peg walks Jack, I go back to the house to do a little work on dinner. I also mix up two cocktails, pour them into plastic tumblers, and head back up to the barn.  Peg walks in a few minutes later and we toast – cocktail hour and lambing, the perfect combination.

After a while, Peg goes back in and finds – nothing.  No triplets. Relief.

Around 6:30, #2 is alert, but not really trying to stand up. The wind has been howling and it’s pretty chilly. We agree to get Dolly and the twins set up in a jug with two heat lamps on. We shoo all the moms and lambs out of the way, pick up the new lambs and slowly lead Dolly into her jug. Around 6:50, we decide to let Dolly and Mother Nature do their work – there’s nothing we can do to get #2 standing. We head back inside. About 20 minutes later, I head back to the barn and see #2 standing. Good.  About an hour later, I go into the jug and get #2 to latch onto one of Dolly’s teats. Better. At 3 am, I walk out to do my barn check and hear….nothing.  No crying.  Even better.  This morning at 7, both lambs seem to be just fine.  Welcome, 1613 and 1614.

Todd