Day 4: Between a Ewe and a Hard Place

A white wagtail, known as 'mariuerla' in Iceland and "Ahhhhh! So cute!" by me.

We began the day with a lovely serenade from this little guy on the front porch. At the barn, I found the yearling resting comfortably under the heat lamp while Xena and Oolong cuddled together for warmth in the corner.

Not the face of a sheep who is sorry for her actions.

Xena and Oolong have it covered, though.

Grace and I found ourselves dealing with an interesting situation later. Grace spotted a ewe in labor (so nothing out of the ordinary yet). Normally when a ewe is found to be in labor, we shut all the aisle doors except for any leading to the jug we have prepared for her, and then move her out of the group pen. The ewe then follows the corridors and any blockades we have set up to direct her, and ends up in the jug (in theory). This minimizes the time the ewe is handled, which is easier on everyone involved. Anyway, Grace had caught the ewe and was moving her out of the pen, when Myla, the farm's Border Collie, decided she wanted to "help."

Pictured: Agent of chaos, and her kong toy.

Next thing we knew, this is what the aisle leading to the jug looked like:

I tried to encourage the poor, corridor-wide, heavily pregnant ewes to go back as gently as I could, initiating a backwards shuffle-waddle from the line of ewes. Most of them turned around when they reached the corner.

Most.

We were heartbreakingly close to the group pen when the ewe in front decided she could shuffle-waddle backwards no more. She stopped and could be neither dislodged nor moved around. We tried calling Myla to fix the mess she made and she strangely had no interest in fixing it despite being very eager to help us earlier. It took Helgi wading in and basically picking up the lead ewe and turning her around to unclog the corridor.

Later, I found myself assisting a yearling with a fairly large lamb. I got him out, and felt for the position of the next, which was fine. It seemed much smaller, so I figured I'd let the yearling work on that one on her own. The next thing I knew, the tiniest lamb I'd ever seen squirted out with one push, spraying me with amniotic fluid. The yearling expressed her thanks for my help by licking the fluid off my face and hair while I was tending to the babies.

I named her 'Pip' because 'Pipsqueak' was too big a name.

Pip's a feisty little ewe, but she had to be bottlefed initially because she was too short to reach the udder! We weighed her later and she was a mere 2.5 lbs (1.1kg).

Grace managed to help a pretty mouflon ewe (Stetja, although I'm not sure I spelled it right) deliver two massive babies (around 12 lbs/5.4kg each!), a ram and a ewe. All of them took it in stride. When we came back for our next shift, however, we found the ewe lamb weak and lethargic. We treated her for watery mouth, but she passed away two hours later, a horrible lesson for me on how quickly this disease can kill a lamb. As she had been vigorous at birth, nursed, and received a preventative antibiotic like all the other lambs, the best explanation Helgi could come up with was she was so big, the colostrum she got wasn't sufficient for her body size. Even though hours had passed since her labor, Stetja was still willing to adopt a lamb from another ewe who was having trouble caring for it, because she's a champ.

We didn't have much time to dwell on the unfortunate situation because it was a crazy night of lambing. We think Helgi jinxed us earlier by telling me how to deliver lambs from weird positions, because lambs in weird positions is exactly what we ended up with. I dealt with my first case of tangled lambs (Grace says it's like trying to untie a knot you can't see, and also everything is sticky). I still don't have a mental image of how the lambs were positioned, but I picked one of the heads I could feel, found the front feet, and went from there, and that worked. Grace meanwhile was trying to move a ewe in labor and ended up with the contents of a waterbag in her boot! She didn't let that stop her, and didn't complain about it for the rest of the shift, either. It did move 'sock day' higher up on our laundry priorities, though.

Day 3: Attack of the Yearlings

The weather was a bit more spring-like today with rain instead of snow and hail. The fields are visible and the first group of sheep (non-pregnant ewes and rams) was let outside, as well as the mare and foal that were being kept in from the cold. 

We started the day with some cleaning. There were only a few ewes lambing and with everyone down at the barn we could get a lot of work done. While we cleaned, additional groups pen were put up, ewes and lambs were moved and more lambing jugs were opened up. I swept the yearling pens with a helper. While all the other yearlings panicked by my presence in the pen, she seemed curious.

Melissa worked on cleaning a pen with the older ewes, who are unphased by Melissa's presence and were more concerned about her attention not being on them and their need for scratches.

We were happy to see that in the early hours of the morning our orphans were adopted by a wonderful mother. I went to go see them, but with there new mother they could not care less about me and I don't blame them, she is an awesome mom. 

We got good news about the ewe that was not fond of her lambs and had one side of her udder that had blood clots. Helgi was able to get the larger clot that was blocking the teat and milk the majority of the clots out, by the end of the day her milk was flowing much more smoothly. She was also starting to tolerate her lambs, and maybe even liking one of them. She will continue wearing the rope on her head in the case she starts to become violent with her lambs again and we have to tie her to the side of the jug.

With so few active lambings, we spent some time checking in with some ewes and lambs that needed extra attention. I was tasked with milking out an older ewe. Snædis suggested I bring multiple one-liter bottles which I thought was funny. Just softening up one side of her udder, I milked out a full liter of milk. The ewe showed her thanks by pulling on my ponytail while I was looking underneath her. To her credit, my hair almost matches the haylage being fed to them. We ended the milking session with shoulder and chest scratches.

We had another ewe and lamb that needed some help. A ram lamb had yet to figure out how to nurse. His sister had figured it out first thing and was happily napping while we got to work. Mom was immensely patient and even positioned her legs so the teat could not be missed, but the little ram lamb went everywhere but the teat. Even after Melissa placed the teat in his mouth, he spit it out and searched up his mom's belly for food. After both Melissa and I working on this problem child, he eventually latched on and was able to nurse to everyone's relief.

Things started to pick up in the afternoon and we had a steady flow of those lambing out. Melissa was able to successfully use the patented loop technique Snædis had taught her, which she was excited about. She also had a case of triplets that made me do a double take. The 1st lamb to come out was good-sized and it was assumed the two following would be smaller. The last two were just as large as the 1st lamb making it a head scratcher... where did those lambs come from? There are two options, either the ewe had planned an elaborate magic trick to where Melissa finds out the 3rd lamb was an illusion or this ewe's uterus is the Tardis.

When we returned for our night shift, I helped an older ewe with her single lamb, and given her sweet mom skills, she was given a lamb from a yearling that had twins. First-time moms usually do best with one lamb to look after and feed... two can be a bit overwhelming. When I took the lamb, the mother did not notice. She was eating a snack, took a nap, woke-up 30 minutes later to realize she only had one lamb. She was distraught and decided to scream non-stop for the rest of our shift (which was until 2am). Not only was the lamb currently in her care clearly not the favorite, she got another yearling next to her to scream in unison for some time. We ignored her, so she climbed up the side of her lambing jug to announce to the whole barn I am a baby snatcher.

 We had a number of yearlings lamb out through the day and three that decided they wanted to lamb out together at midnight. Given the size of my hands, I am not helpful when it comes to yearlings until the lamb has passed the pelvis, so it was all Melissa, which she took in stride. This would have have been easy breezy for the two of us but we could not communicate with the angry yearling screaming over us. Also wanting to be part of the group an older ewe with triplets started to lamb out. The first yearling lambed out without any assistance unless you count us cheering her on and checking the lamb's position. The 2nd yearling passed a water sac, then got up and started eating, which was very concerning. By this time, Snædis's dad, Hallí, had come to switch shifts with us and decided to check things out. He felt two heads and four legs all trying to come out at the same time. With swift maneuvering, he had her first lamb out. After giving her some time to meet her lamb, Melissa went to check the 2nd lamb who turned out to be upside down. With a gentle twist and pull, the 2nd lamb was out. Triplet mom was also not concerned with the passing of her water sac which was because her 1st lamb was a stillborn in a tucked position, unable to move into the birth canal. Once the stillborn was removed she easily had her last two, very lively lambs. After all this action, we left Hallí to keep watch of the last, very shocked looking, yearling. We called it a night after saying goodbye to a two of our favorite lambs, Oolong and Xena Warrior Princess, who were very tiny lambs a yearling had yesterday but continues to need some extra guidance when it comes to nursing.

Þórhallur 
Þórhallur 
Þórhallu

Day 2: Hail Yes

Looking pretty done with this nonsense.

For Grace and I, barn chores started at 11:00am. The weather was rather spectacularly unpleasant. Initially there were just strong winds, but then there was snow, fierce enough that when I looked up from the sheep and out a window, there was just whiteness. Ear tagging and moving of sheep commenced as usual. Sadly, our worst fears about the sickly lamb from yesterday were realized-- she had watery mouth, which is an opportunistic E-coli infection, and unfortunately is not treatable after a certain stage (she had received antibiotics earlier, but to no avail). She was euthanized because she was trembling and seizing and there was no reason to prolong that. The orphans must not have had healing powers, but they did snuggle with her in her last few hours, and I like to think that helped.

That was depressing, so here's a picture of the farm's cat cuddling up near me.

During a lull in activity, I got some grain and tried making friends with Becca Jr., a spunky leadersheep. I've been informed that if I'm friends with Becca Jr. things will be much easier for me. I got her to take some grain and was able to scratch her head, so hopefully that's progress.

It's also quite possible she just wanted to spite Grace.

Becca's mother Kruna, meanwhile, doesn't shun anyone as long as they have grain.

Mostly wishful thinking, but the black spot on this ewe lamb's back as well as her facial markings reminded me a little of Fiddlehead back at Witter Farm.

Later, I found myself having difficulty helping a ewe deliver a large lamb. I flagged down Snaedis, who showed me her patented method wherein she puts a loop over the lamb's head, puts her foot in the other end of the loop and uses that to apply pressure, leaving her hands free to help loosen the vaginal opening and anything else to help the lamb out. I wish I had a picture of that, but it took her mere seconds to pop the lamb out, it seemed. It was rather awe-inspiring.

I had a good laugh later when I was making the rounds and checking for labor signs. There was one yearling I paused near for further evaluation because she seemed to be working on something, pushing a bit, and sitting up off the ground slightly. I soon found out, however, that all she was working on was a fart!

We went on break at 3pm. The good news is the snow had stopped. The bad news is it hailed on us instead as we walked back up the hill to the house. The hailstones were about the same size and shape as grains of road salt, so it was just unpleasant rather than painful or injury causing. I tried to keep my hands from getting hailed on by tucking them in my pockets and ended up with pockets full of hailstones for my trouble because the hail simply blew in around my wrists.

The walk seems longer when you're walking through hail.

When Grace and I returned to the barn around 9, there was a new leadersheep lamb. I'm sure leadersheep have been described here before, but for those who haven't read through all the previous blog posts, they are a sort of subspecies of Icelandic sheep who are taller, leaner, and more intelligent than a typical Icelandic sheep. I didn't get a good photo opportunity for that one, unfortunately.

Luckily Grace got this picture of a different leadersheep lamb being sassy.

There was also a yearling who'd had two of the tiniest babies ever. She didn't quite grasp the whole "you are a mom now" concept and was really scared and kept trying to escape the situation by jumping out the hay trough.

"What are these things?"

Oh right, these are babies. They do also resemble jellybeans more than the average lamb.

I was tasked with making sure the babies got something to eat, which involved pinning a very squirrely and motivated yearling, and then getting the babies to actually latch, which they didn't quite know how to do, which made a total of four of us who didn't quite know what to do. After much struggling on everyone's part, the babies had full bellies and settled down for a nap.

Soon after, I found myself assisting a somewhat feral sheep who had a correctly positioned lamb but didn't care to push it out. I stepped in when its tongue started turning blue. The problems continued afterwards, because she was totally uninterested in licking it off. She got the second lamb out without assistance, but subsequently decided to eat instead of tending to the babes. I soon found out a possible reason when I went to strip her teats-- she has chronic mastitis and her teats were full of milk clots. I was able to clear one teat, from which we obtained colostrum for the twins. Meanwhile, the triplet mom that caused us some stress yesterday, in the adjacent jug, picked up the mastitis ewe's slack and began cleaning the soggy lambs through the slats. Since it was a cold night and snow was coming in through the vents, we ended up popping both lambs in her jug temporarily for her to finish the job.

A later shot of our MVP of the night snuggling with her lambs.

Our last lambing before we left at 1 or 2 am (not sure... time is a blur, or an illusion, or something like that.... I'm a bit tired) was a yearling expecting twins. Grace had checked the position of the first lamb and found that it had one leg back. Since I have smaller hands, I went in and was able to find the second leg and pull it forward, but the problems did not end there. The lamb was big, and had a big head, and big ol' horn buds. I tried, but I just could not get a lambing loop over its head. I had to resort to pulling the legs, as Grace assisted by pressing the vulva area to help push the lamb's head out. It was tough. I nearly cried because I felt bad for the yearling, and Grace was pretty sure the lamb was dead. When we got him out, however, he was very much alive, and the yearling immediately accepted him and began licking him vigorously. The second lamb was also large, but came out more easily. The yearling had to take some time before her legs started working again, but they did, and mom and babies all seemed to be in good spirits when we left.

I thought the baby might even suckle like this, but she waited until mom got up.

Proud mother and both of her giant babies.

Day 1ish...

Grace and I arrived in Iceland at approximately 7:00 in the morning Iceland time, which is four hours ahead of Maine. The first half of the plane ride was impressively turbulent, rather reminiscent of a ride down the Witter Farm road, except this ride was four hours long and 34,000 feet above ground (or around 10,000 meters... must remember to use metric here!). Nonetheless, we made it without any issues and I think Grace was even able to sleep during the flight, because she is some kind of superhuman. During the hour long ride to Hestur Farm, we experienced rain, snow, hail and sun, all of which looked pretty in their own way against the Icelandic landscape.

Once at Hestur, which is apparently the swan capital of Iceland, judging by the number of swans in the fields, we got a tour of the farm, primarily for my benefit, although I think Grace enjoyed seeing all the familiar faces again. Most of the horses were outside, unperturbed by the snow covering the ground, but one mare was inside with her impressively stocky 1-2 day old foal.

Shortly after this photo was taken, the foal asked me: "do you even lift?"

Once back with the sheep, my first task was to take the "placenta stick" and remove passed placentas from the jugs. Some of the sheep appeared offended that I would take their placentas, but most didn't mind. It was a good opportunity to meet individual sheep and also to watch what all the more experienced people were doing, which was ear tagging and weighing, and subsequently moving ewes and lambs out of their jugs and into shared quarters. Although things had been quiet when we arrived, it wasn't long before we were moving ewes in labor into newly open jugs. 

Cuddle buddies.

Cuddle buddies x5

The first lamb I helped deliver at Hestur!

In between sheep, the jugs were swept to remove any poop or other substances stuck in the grates, and then sprinkled with a pink antibacterial powder. I have no idea what's in the powder but it's a rather cheerful color and smells like fruit flavored Tums, of all things.

This ewe decided she liked me and she liked back scratches too.

My new friend looking proud of her kids.

Grace and I got a much needed nap break in the afternoon, then we headed back to the barn until 1:00am. This time we were on our own. Things began calmly, but soon all the open jugs were filled. Despite us checking for labor signs as often as possible, one ewe managed to have a lamb while in with the other ewes. Two other ewes tried to lick it off, and one tried to follow the lamb and its actual mother to the jug. Since the first delivery for that ewe went so well, we let our guards down while we were assisting other ewes. When we next checked that ewe, she had a head out but no legs and refused to stop pushing vigorously. Grace managed pull one leg out, which was sufficient for delivery in this instance. I soon got my first experience delivering a lamb from a yearling. That one also required re-positioning, and I actually ended up with a small bruise from where a poorly-timed contraction jammed my hand against her pelvic bone with surprising force. After this delivery, I walked by our problem ewe and noticed legs sticking out again (surprise! It's triplets). This one was backwards but a swift pull from Grace got it out without injury to mom or baby.

We dubbed her the Diva Sheep. The purple means she will stay on the home fields but it may also signify royalty.

As we were getting ready to leave, two ewes went into labor. One of them gave the best pushes when given encouragement (we found out later she had given birth to one of the farm's most prized rams and it sort of went to her head). The other was expecting triplets, but one had died probably several weeks prior. The mother and other two lambs were healthy and well, and one of the lambs was positively huge (perhaps she crowded out the stillborn one).

In all, it was an overwhelming but good first day!

A sickly ewe lamb placed with the orphans in case they had healing powers like Steve.

The orphans. I could believe they have healing powers, but they primarily have screaming powers.

Hello to all,

Attempting my first blog post state side. Very excited to spend ample time with one of my favorite animals(  Icelandic Sheep ). The university of Maine has one more ewe left to go this lambing season. We wait on her( Willow) with excitement. Thank you to all who made this opportunity available to me, I am beyond grateful.

SHEEP

Day 30: Difficult Goodbyes

Today is the day that I leave Iceland. I write this while sitting in the airport awaiting my flight. I am sick to my stomach trying to hold back tears after saying goodbye. I was honored last night to assist in the last lambing of the season. As you can imagine this ewe wouldn't let me leave without giving me a hard time. Her cervix was closed even though her water broke, so with lots of dilating lubricant, I opened it so her ram lambs could come out. Of course, they both tried to come out at the same time and three legs, two front and one back were being pushed out. After some adjustment, the first healthy ram lamb came out. Knowing that the 2nd lamb was backward I immediately pulled him out with my hand covering his horn buds. Both lively and hungry, it was a good ending to an amazing lambing season. 

Mom ended up eating all of the hay bed by the morning

It was about 1 am when she was finished and the lambs successfully nursed, so I left to head to the house to let the new family get acquainted.

In the morning, I packed and headed down to the barn to say my goodbyes to the orphans and my other favorites. Before heading to the barn I said goodbye to the dogs Lukka and Myla. Lots of slobbery kisses ensued and I repaid them with belly rubs. I then went to say my goodbyes to the orphans. I could not hold back a few tears petting those chunky little fluffy lambs. With the amazing growth, I have seen in this short amount of time I know they do great over the summer. With that, I had to say goodbye to the wonderful people that housed me, fed me, and taught me so much over this past month. Helgi and Snædis have been such amazing hosts that I now consider family. This experience has been unreal, so much I feel I need to be pinched. Some lambings were difficult and there were deaths that felt like a stab to your heart but there was also those wonderful times, seeing a sick lamb recover when you thought they weren't going to pull through after all of your efforts, having a ewe lamb out all by herself, having those exceptionally sweet ewes that you feel appreciate you and your help, and most of all Delicate Steve. My body was broken down but it built back up, stronger than before. This country makes you feel like you are stepping into another world, the green fields, rocky mountains, waterfalls, lava fields, etc. I could go on and on. Of course, I would not be here without the sheep. They are unlike other sheep in having a wild streak, are stubborn, independent, and feisty, which is why I love them and want to continue to work with them. 

I am happy to be reunited with my family, my puppy Suzie and my friends. And... here come the waterworks, in front of strangers in the airport. Good thing I packed tissues. 

I am having difficulty trying to fully describe how I feel about this experience and I am not sure if they have a word for it, while I search for the words I will conclude with this: thank you Helgi and Snædis for your kindness and good humor, even with 1 hour of sleep, I will see you again whether it be in Maine or back in Iceland, this isn't goodbye forever, this is only a goodbye for now. 

Now back to Maine!

Day 29: Fencing is an Art and Art

Today I woke up with mixed feelings. I will be leaving tomorrow making this my last day at Hestur. I am excited to see my family and friends but I am sad to leave this place. Snædis and Helgi have made it feel like home here. I've got my chores routine, my orphans to tend to and much more of Iceland to see. With that being said I still had my morning chores and headed to the barn. Our little spotted mouflon orphan has a new mom! The ewe expecting a single lamb lambed out in the night and has made a little orphan very happy and very full.

This means we are down to one more pregnant ewe. Her due date is tomorrow. It would be nice if she decided to lamb out before I left.

The rest of our orphans are preparing for my departure by getting used to a bucket as opposed to being bottle fed. It took a lot of time letting each one drink while the others jumped, head-butted and kicked to get to the bottle. At points, it would become a brawl and no one could drink the bottle. The bucket is not much different, the only difference is the nipple is different and it has not been a good transition. To be honest they have been getting a little lazy lately...

I filled the bucket with milk and set it up. The ewe lamb and the lamb that tries to nurse from anything (he has picked up the habit again) took right to it. 

Our two ram lambs are frustrated and cry, flare their nostrils and attack the bucket. While I was tending to a ewe I heard a crash and the barn went silent. I walked over to the orphans to see the two ram lambs knocked the bucket over and spilled the contents all over the pen and themselves. They were scared and hid from the bucket. I ended up feeding them a bottle to their delight.

"Nope, we didn't see anything"

Our little brown lamb is still struggling to stand with her abscess so she gets her bottle while being held above the trampling of the other orphans. She has been in the orphan pen the shortest amount of time and yet has made friends fast. 

It was my last time walking out to grain the ewes and lambs in the fields, so I took my time. However, the ewes were growing impatient by my slow walking and tried to take it upon themselves to try and knock the grain bucket out of my hands. They grew frustrated, stormed by me bumping my legs and waited by the feeders. 

Fairweather friends while holding the grain bucket 

I stood and took in the scenery while the ewes had their grain and took a slow walk back. When I arrived back, Helgi had a job for me to do, help with fencing. Most of the fencing was put up yesterday to surround the field that was seeded for a research project. The ewes have enjoyed walking through it and resting in it for some time now. We were to secure the metal netting and barbed wire with staples put in with the old-fashioned hammer. It was a bit windy, but a beautiful sunny day while we made our way down the fence posts. The only issue is, we have had a lot of rain and the newly seeded field was very soft in some parts.

I didn't need my feet anyway

We had to walk with caution because you weren't sure when you were going to sink in and how deep. Once done, I checked over the old fencing and put staples in where needed.

My view most of the day

Next, we tackled a very old fence that is in dire need of repair. It consists of five lines of rusty barbed wire, that becomes three at some point, that are nailed to shards of what were posts. We were just to make a temporary fix until it became a higher priority on Helgi's To-Do list. After putting in some posts over the post shards and trying to make a semi-put together line of wire we got to the end and looked at what we created. Barbed wire crisscrossed between some posts and the different shapes and sizes of the posts were entertaining. It was giving descriptors like rustic, minimalist, repurposed, antique, etc. We agreed it is more of an art piece than a working fence. Near the end of the day, my hammering was getting sloppy and some fingers were crunched in the process, my hand-eye coordination was seriously lacking. After holding nails for Helgi to hammer in, we never switched jobs because he cares dearly for his fingers (I don't blame him). At that point, it was time to call it a day and rest my arms. We hitched a ride with Snædis to help move a few groups into the fields. One of the groups moved included Stevonnie who continues to thrive with her new mom. 

Both looking through the feeder

After that, I made sure to see my orphans again before calling it a night. I am going to miss caring for them every day, seeing them grow, their personalities develop, and most of all the lap naps.

Until tomorrow!