Cries of a lamb

Unless you have tendencies towards a psychopathic personality disorder or some other condition that inhibits feelings of empathy you are sure to agree that that there are few things more cute than a young lamb. In a similar vein the cries of a lamb, even more so a solitary orphan lamb, can pull on the heart strings.

When a friend called in a few weeks ago for eggs (she is a mother of three young children) she heard the plaintive bleating of our orphaned lamb which, being only a few days old, was being kept in our utlity room. She had that uneasy agitation women often report experiencing (and perhaps men too) at the sound of a crying baby. 

The lamb is now out in the field with the other lambs and ewes but is being bottle fed. The trouble is that when she catches sight of you she calls out continuously. We try to take a different route to avoid this, not unlike creeping up and down stairs when the children were babies and had finally settled to sleep.

If you keep livestock you get to know the various types of calls they make and can usually dicipher whether it is in distress and warrants immediate investigation or not. For example, the cry of a lamb that has temporarily lost sight of its mother compared to a lamb that has got itself stuck in the stock fencing. 

Today the orphan lamb was crying out as we were doing jobs outside. It was more attention seeking (understandable perhaps in a baby)  than a sign of being in difficulties. For Janet, though, it evoked that agitated feeling that persisted until it became unbearable. Not from irritation but from a strong maternal response. "It feels like she is going to make me leak milk" she said as she 'threw in the trowel' and retreated indoors. (I didn't say anything to this but, even though I'm no Zacharias, I momentarily pondered these words in my heart).

The lamb is eating more grass now so we are reducing the number of bottle feeds. It looks healthy and strong so it should grow into a fine ewe.