On the Farm
When lambing season arrives, I can’t wait to lend a helping hand.
The call of a newborn lamb is the sweetest sound of spring.
The alarm jerks me out of a sound sleep. I sigh and roll over, not relishing the thought of leaving my warm bed. But there is also fresh excitement. Maybe this will be the morning when I creep into the barn and discover new babies. I crawl out of bed, the cold floor biting at my feet, and pull on my well-worn farm jeans. There is a hole in the knee, and I make a mental note to get some new ones the next chance I get.
Wandering into the living room, I see that our trusty wood stove needs attention. Opening the stove door, I stir the coals, encouraging them to come to life. Now it is time to face the cold. Pulling on my coat and hat, I call for Leesi, our farm dog. She trots over, nails clicking across the linoleum. I take a deep breath, and we charge out the door. It rained all night, but now snow hits me full in the face. Great, I think, this would be the morning a ewe would decide to usher her precious cargo into the world. Crunching over the frozen ground,
I cannot help but think that I’m beating the same path my grandma did many years ago.
Nearing the barn, I hear it, the sound that makes my heart leap and brings a smile to my face—the call of a newborn lamb. “At last!” I exclaim, and I hurry the rest of the way. I flip on the barn lights and there they are: one baby already standing, the other just born.
I quietly tiptoe over to them, not wanting to disturb the ewe. She is cleaning the first lamb, bleating to it softly and scrubbing it with her tongue. I turn my attention to the second lamb. The wind is cold, and this little one needs drying immediately. I gently lift it onto dry bedding and towel it dry. After a few minutes of scrubbing, I pass the lamb over to its mom so they can bond. My quick peek informs me that both lambs are male.
I stand, stretching my back. Smiling down at the new family, I head toward the gate and back to the house. The air doesn’t seem so cold now that there is new life in the barn. Spring is here!
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I cannot help but think that I’m beating the same path my grandma did many years ago.