On Friday February 23rd, 2024 I discovered that the older ewe that I had bought in 2022 had given birth to two lambs, both of which survived. I didn’t bother the lambs but I did see them both get up and feed on their mama, so I figured they were ok.
When I came back the next morning, the ewe was along the southern fence line while all the cows had moved to roughly the mid-field where I had put out a bale of hay.
One of the lambs had crossed the fence and was in the brush there. I didn’t think much of it and figured the lamb would cross when it was good and ready to feed on the mama ewe, so I left him. I came back about an hour later and he had not moved from the spot and was bleating for his mama, and his mama was hovering near him.
I turned the fence off with my remote control, pulled up some old barbed wire that was shorting the fence over there, and then tried to coax the lamb to cross back to the field by tapping it with a post. It didn’t want to move, but it did try to get up.
Finally I reached under the fence and grabbed one of the forelegs and dragged him under the fence and into my arms. I noticed almost immediately that one of the legs was completely broken, hanging by the flesh and skin, just twisting and turning in the wind. The lamb didn’t seem phased by it at all. I gently laid him down and watched as he tried and failed to stand up.
It was at this point that I knew I had a real problem on my hand. Was the lamb born without a bone there? No, I could see and feel the broken bone. Was it broken at birth? No, I remember watching it eat off of his mama on Friday.
I had a choice either to do nothing, kill it, or try to save it. I looked on the internet and found that lambs with broken legs was somewhat common, and that it was a “simple” matter of putting on a good splint and bottle-feeding the lamb until it healed. I asked my family if they were willing to take upon themselves the duty to feed the lamb and change his bedding, and hearing no response I took him home.
My wife and daughter fell in love with the lamb instantly. It took a while for us amateur veterinarians to figure out how best to put a splint on. We ended up using a cotton pad, cutting it half, and then craft popsicle sticks, and wrapping it all with sports wrap that self-adheres but doesn’t stick to anything else.
We ended up putting him in a cardboard box with a towel on the bottom, and my daughter gave him a red crab stuffed toy.
I ran down to the local co-op and bought a nipple that latches on to a soda pop bottle and some milk powder for lambs. I made sure it was made from milk and not soy. The first few days he didn’t drink much. Maybe that was as much our fault as his, since we have never done this before (and neither has he!)
When I went back to the field on Sunday, the mama was searching the area for her lost lamb. I couldn’t explain to her, obviously, but I wanted her to know that the lamb was ok and we were going to feed him. Some day he will come back to the pasture. I wonder if mama will recognize him when he does.
As of Monday, the lamb is eating well. He likes to stand when he eats, and he has figured out that the leg that is broken is no good. No doubt he is in a lot of pain, but he is still trying his best to be a good little lamb and build up his strength and health.
If all goes well, he should be healed in a month or so. At that time, if he is able to walk around, we’ll bring him back to the field. I’ll see if he comes to me to get bottle-fed, so I’ll be sure to bring a bottle to the field, or setup a microwave oven in the shop to warm a bottle for him. If that doesn’t work then we’ll keep him at home in our backyard. He should be completely weaned in three months either way.