I must confess, I've committed a grave injustice. Today, I'm here to set the record straight and correct a fib that inadvertently cast a shadow over the intellectual prowess of our ewes. Yes, you read that right. It's a tale of revelation, self-discovery, and the unexpected intelligence of our woolly residents that I previously underestimated.
You see, in our discussions about the intricacies of lambing, I've often shared the necessity of removing one lamb when triplets are born. This practice, while done with the best intentions to ensure the well-being of both the ewes and their lambs, was based on my firm belief that ewes could only count to two. "When you have more than two, it's like one just vanishes into thin air for them," I've said. They would not fuss or even seem to notice when one was missing, as opposed to the heart-wrenching search for a missing lamb if they only had two to start with.
However, a recent event in the barn turned my world upside down. After removing a triplet, as usual, thinking the mother would be none the wiser, I was met with an unexpected reality. One ewe continued to call out, long after I thought she'd settle, as if she knew exactly what was missing from her count. Yes, contrary to my previous proclamations, it seems some ewes can indeed count to three.
This realization hit me hard. There I was, contemplating whether to reunite the lamb with its mother, wrestling with the economic implications such a decision might have on our farm. Despite understanding the potential consequences, the sound of her relentless calling as I sat down for supper was too much for my "too soft" heart to bear. I couldn't ignore it any longer.
In a moment of weakness, I returned the lamb to its mother. Watching them reunite, I was struck by the uniqueness of this situation. This act was not a change in our farm policy but a one-time decision for this particularly astute ewe. It was an exception to the rule, prompted by the extraordinary circumstances and the undeniable bond between this mother and her lamb.
I share this story as a candid glimpse into the sometimes unpredictable and emotional aspects of farm life. It's a reminder that, despite our best plans, nature has its way of teaching us humility and compassion.
Your (ever-reflective) Farmer Rod