Sassafras and Willie

The little girl's blue eyes bulged as the scene before her gushed more bloody fluid. Beneath her thick blond hair, her brain busily processed every tiny detail and no words were spoken as she stood entranced with the activty.  She did not wince or nervously knead her delicate fingers in balled fists, but instead, her small hands stayed at her sides. Oddly, she was not terrified while standing in the corner of the small room. She somehow was very intrigued.

The old man had owned the property for over 5 decades. His propensity for hoarding was evident with decaying farm equipment rusting away in the fields, sheds so stuffed that contents spilled out through open doors and work areas unrecognizeable due to clutter burying tools and benches years ago. Urban sprawl surrounded his property with expensive homes which only made his sloppy collection look more disastrous.

At best, livestock had been haphazardly managed. Water and cheap feed were provided, but the rest of the time the animals fended for themselves. No records were kept and when his aging flock of sheep began lambing in late winter, troubles began.

Ewes wandered around to find a secluded spot to give birth to their tiny lambs.  The lucky lambs would encounter a loving mother frantically licking them clean as they struggled to an eventual wobbly stagger while finding warm milk to fill their empty stomachs.

But, the unlucky lambs endured hardship due to little supervision from their aging shepherd. Some of the geriatric ewes managed to lamb without difficulty, but years and years of use had their mammary systems so damaged that their milk was simply unavailable for their newborns.  Unfortunate ewes with bad presentations of the birthing lambs suffered since it was physically impossible for the newborns to emerge. 

Fortunately for the flock, watchful eyes from neighbors took control while the old man's health declined as he withered away. As he sat in his easy chair, neighbors quietly became diligent shepherds for the flock, making rounds and checking on everyone so there was no further suffering.

One old ewe struggling to give birth abandoned any flight tendancy as the neighbors intervened.  She waddled all spraddle-legged into the barn's room that was thickly bedded with a clean layer of straw. Hormones forced her to lay and push, but there was no progress.  A hand was dunked in a bucket of sudsy warm water and gently reached up inside to find a lamb folded in a bad position.  Despite the straining mother, the neighbor's hand carefully manipulated the miniature body inside. 

"Can I reach in and feel what it's like?" the intrigued little girl asked her dad who was shocked at the request.

"Not now, honey, let me finish helping this one out," was his gentle reply as he silently worried if he could finish the job sucessfully.

Bloody birthing fluids soaked the straw mat below them as the delicate lamb was repositioned.  When satisfied the newborn was in the correct position, and timing with the mother's contractions, the newborn was eased out into the world.

The little girl stood in dismay, totally enthralled with the miracle that happened before her eyes.  The slimy lamb's face was covered in thick, viscous fluid as she tried to jab a strand of straw up its nose to trigger a head shaking sneeze reflex to clear the nasal passages.  Despite her calmness under pressure, she missed.  Dad darted the straw into the nose causing the stimulated sneeze which brought sighs of relief.

During the lambing season, the little girl witnessed the joy of several birthings and the sadness of unfortunate deaths. 

But, despite her dad moaning about having to take over raisng 2 bottle baby lambs, she was giddy.  Sassafras and Willie were dependant on them for survival. Every couple hours, warm milk replacer was brought to them and heartily guzzled.  All through the nights and through all kinds of late winter weather, the little girl helped care for them. The red glow of the heat lamp from the shed could be seen across the pasture at night, a steady reassurance the lambs were safe and warm.

While at school, the little girl's class work included keeping a journal where drawings and/or writings documented some of their activites. She carefully crafted her picture of a scene that surely raised eyebrows in the urban elementary school. 

Despite the teacher rubber stamping "Good Job" on the artwork, I wonder what she really thought?