Lambing Season in Iceland 2018. Third year for University of Maine AVS Students.: Day 24: A Yellow Thing I Don't Recognize

This morning felt... different. It took me a few seconds to process, but it was because there were actual sunbeams coming in through the windows! When I stepped outside, it felt pleasant and refreshing, instead of like being buffeted by hurricane force winds/rain/hail. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. I could even see the actual sun and not just light filtered through clouds.

The sheep have stopped banging on the doors. Things are good. The silence and sun almost feel weird at this point.

This one ewe really seems to like the gravel pile. Every time I walk by she looks at me like: "This is MY gravel pile, go away!"

While the weather held, I helped Snaedis and Helgi prepare some more group pens to put outside. Once all the lambs had gotten dewormer and the ewes had been checked for mastitis, they were moved outside in groups of around 8 ewes at a time, plus lambs. I actually hardly noticed this going on, because at that point I was finally pressure washing! When pressure washing, we have to wear a raincoat + rainpants+ boots+ face shield because there is a lot of spray that comes back and hits us. And that spray contains a lot of poop. I still really enjoy getting the pens clean, though! It would be better to not also get sprayed with liquid poop, but hey, you can't have everything. The face shield doesn't keep it all out, so I keep telling myself it's probably good for the immune system.

My trusty weapon. The solid piece of poop/cement in front is the trophy I kept after a hard day's work.

While prepping everyone to go outside, a ram lamb and his mother and sister were held inside temporarily. This ram lamb acted just like a regular lamb, except he kept holding his head at a weird angle, looked a little confused, and could not seem to straighten up. He received an extra dose of vitamins once symptoms began appearing, which did not help, so it is likely he received brain/nerve damage from a ewe slamming into him. Normally, ewes push other lambs away if they get too close, since milk is costly for them to produce, and they do not want to waste it on a lamb that's not theirs. Lambs typically get the hint pretty quickly and stick to their own mom. Occasionally however, a ewe is mean and violent, or just strikes an unfortunate spot and injures the lamb. We monitor group pens right after introduction, but sadly we cannot see and stop everything (some ewes are sneaky). The ram lamb was initially able to nurse, but his balance declined alarmingly quickly and the decision was made to euthanize him since there was no indication he would improve instead of continuing to grow worse.

Something more cheerful: a lamb nibbling its mother's horns, hoping for milk.

I don't remember planting that.

A ewe and her little mini-me.

I also witnessed something I've never seen before... a ewe chasing her emerging placenta like a dog might chase its tail! Why she decided to do that, I'm not sure, but I hope I'm not a jerk for having laughed at it.

The barn now consists of a lot of empty pens to be cleaned, two pens of pregnant ewes still holding on to those lambs, and a handful of group pens and younger lambs still in jugs with their mothers. It is very quiet now, except for whenever they hear the grain bin open. The leader lambs are still inside with us, as their mother has some slight health problems that are still being treated, but the lambs are climbing and exploring EVERYTHING so the sooner they get outside the better, even though we will miss them. The leader lamb's adoptive mother continues to handle her little leader sheep with admirable aplomb and still seems totally up to the task of raising them. She is such a champ.