Grumpy seems to be making every effort to mother it properly. You may remember that she's had two lambs previously, but has never kept one alive longer than 48 hours. This is her final chance to perform. With that in mind, I've been calling her lamb 'Lucky', as in third time lucky. If he makes it, Lucky is destined for ice camp (maybe not so lucky for him) because his mother "throws singles", meaning she's not a particularly fecund line for breeding purposes.
Grumpy giving me the "Maternal Stinkeye"
My one lamb birth pales in comparison to Mike's 7,609 pheasant chicks that hatched today.
A small sample
I made my first delivery of the year to Exmoor, to our game farmer who raises the chicks for us in specially heated houses, and returns them as feathered-up adolescents in about two months' time.
I loaded up the van but stopped by the field to check the lamb before I left for my long drive. I wanted to make sure Lucky was feeding alright. He would need the energy to combat the elements, let alone the whole birthing experience. As I picked him up to feel his belly, he promptly deposited a poop in my lap. Well, at least that answered that question. Something has to go in, for something to come out. I changed my trousers, then headed off with a peeping van full of chicks.
Ewe L845, Grumpy's birthing partner, is looking close to delivery herself. I hope she has the sense to wait until this weather breaks.
If she doesn't, no matter - I have plenty more red lamb raincoats to go round.