4. Springtime Tales
Beatrix & her twins
March 2023
First day heading outside
March 2023
Beatrix, Benny & Jet
March 2023
I always knew vaguely about the excitement, stress and tiredness that large-scale commercial sheep farmers endure through the lambing season, but had no idea what that is like. It’s so easy for things to go wrong with bad weather, ill-health, sudden onset of disease, unexpected pneumonia and a host of other things. Even though I only had two ewes in-lamb, I had no idea what to expect. My pal Jeremy hadn’t scanned them, but he knew the date that the ram had been with them and so we knew that around St. Patrick’s Day, they would be due. 154-157 days is the gestation period for sheep.
So as March approached, I watched and waited, but the two girls were behaving normally plus they had such a thick layer of wool from winter, I had no idea if they were even pregnant for sure.
One morning as the blinds were opened, there was a little tiny black lamb at the foot of Jemima. Barely a few minutes old, he was trying to get up already. It was miserably cold, so we picked up the little scrap and walked him over to the stable with his mother following close behind, and brought them in to keep warm.
He was a big lamb which is always a concern for singles as they can cause difficulty during birth, however, Jemima had managed herself perfectly. Herdwicks don’t have twins very often. Most native breeds don’t because of high-risk environments, the harsh weather typical of their natural habitats, and the consequent inability to sustain multiple lambs due to poor grazing in these upland areas.
Eric grew over the next couple of weeks at an enormous rate, and was running around outside within days. Two weeks later, I was working in Dublin one afternoon when I got an excited phone call from one of our daughters who had gone out for a walk with the dogs. She had passed Beatrix on the way and didn’t notice anything in particular. Only 20 minutes later on the way back, she was rooted to the spot as there were tiny twins on the ground, just born!
This, I learned is typical of Herdwicks. They lamb unaided, outdoors, often in very harsh conditions. Commercial sheep that are bred for maximum meat are the same width along the body from front to back and often need assistance when lambing. However, native breeds that have remained unchanged for millennia are not like this. Their bodies are narrow at the front, with a broad pelvis. This means lambs with their small heads, are born easily and are tiny, but feed well and grow fast to catch up.
The twins and their mother were brought inside but the two mothers were very keen to get out and made sure we knew this - stamping impatiently at us when we went in to feed them. The weather in March was miserable, so we kept them in for about 10 days.
So, my first experience of lambing was utterly enchanting. My husband’s father was a farmer and bred pedigree sheep for years. Leaving home to study, travel and work, farming was far from Jim’s mind as an 18-year-old when the world offered much more exciting prospects. However he realised he remembered much more than he thought and enjoyed it much more than he remembered. In the past catching escaped lambs, cleaning the tail ends of sheep and trimming smelly feet was a dreaded set of tasks asked of a 14-year-old.
This time it was entirely different. A strong vision for converting the land around our home to organic is very important to Jim and these rare breed sheep are proving to be very valuable for grassland management. Eating every weed in sight while needing minimal intervention and treading lightly on the ground, they are a hit, and I’m smitten.