Over the years my family has raised sheep on my parent’s mini farm. It has been a good experience overall, and having new lambs in the spring is always a joy. One hard, sad fact of raising sheep (or any animal) is that you’ll sometimes lose babies. We have lost a few over the years, sometimes stillborn, sometimes born so weak we are unable to save them despite attempts to nurse them back to full strength. This is always heartbreaking and you never really get used to it. In all the years of doing this, we have never lost a mama…until this year. We lost two. The first, Penny, had a prolapsed uterus, which is nearly always fatal to livestock. Even after carefully following instructions from the vet, we lost her. Sometimes there is just nothing you can do. It was especially sad because this was Penny’s first baby, and she was such a great mom in the short time she had. She was so attentive to her little one and knew just what to do. Even when she was in terrible pain, she was concerned for her baby. The second mama, Shy-doo, had mastitis. She has had this happen before, but never so severe. Despite treatment and care, she succumbed to infection. Losing these sheep was a whole new level of heartache, because you not only lose the mama, but have babies left behind who don’t understand what is going on. Seeing these three little lambies cry and cry for their mamas is enough to tug at anyone’s heartstrings.
I mentioned earlier what a good mama Penny was. Some might think that the mothering instinct would just come natural to any animal, but we have seen this isn’t always the case. For example, one mom, Athena, had no maternal instinct whatsoever. She put her needs before the needs of her babies. Always. She had no qualms about trampling them to get to the grain bucket or butting them away if she didn’t feel like nursing. We would often end up holding her still so that the babies could eat, but she would still attempt to kick them away. It was also not uncommon for her to leave her babies behind in the field and ignore their cries. One year in her carelessness she broke her baby’s leg by stepping on it. Another year we were devastated to find that she had squished her baby overnight by laying on top of it. Needless to say we stopped breeding her, because she obviously wasn’t cut out for motherhood and had no desire for it. Cheerio, on the other hand, was probably the best mama we had in all our years of breeding sheep. She was incredibly attentive and careful with her babies. I can’t recall ever having a problem with her. It was so sweet to see her reach back and lick her babies while they nursed, or watch her waking up during nap times to check that they were still by her side. She loved being a mom. It was in her nature to nurture.
I hope my mom won’t take offense to being compared to a sheep, but she is definitely a Cheerio. I consider this high praise.
She takes care of people. She nurtures. She always has. I have watched her serve others my whole life, and always doing so with compassion. I think about the people in the world who grew up with Athenas for moms, and my heart breaks for them. I’m very fortunate to have grown up with a mom who is loving and who always looked out for her kids. She still does. And now she has 3 little lambies in her care. I think Shy-doo and Penny couldn’t have asked for better hands for their little ones to be placed in.
So this is a late Mother’s Day shout-out for moms everywhere– especially moms like mine. Without them, we would all be lost little lambs.

