Country Living – Getting maternal

Gosh the boys have been busy on the farm – hours upon hours spent getting the birthing centre and maternity wards ready. No, no, no, I can hear what you’re all thinking: ‘don’t tell me that mad woman is having ANOTHER one!’ Nope, not me. If I was a ewe I would have a big pink dot on my head, which means I am a barren old girl and my husband would be packing me off to the freezing works!

This year we decided to send our randy old boys (rams) out to some of the girls early in the hope to catch an earlier international market for our lambs. For those not in the know, rams are only ‘put out’ with the girls once a year, and by golly, by the time that season rolls around those boys are ‘antsy’. When the big boys know they are about to go ‘hook up’ with the girls, they start frothing at the mouth and they give off this putrid scent. The funny thing is the guys on this farm don’t seem to mind the smell, but as a woman, it is a complete mystery to me why these lovely ladies would want those rams (with that smell) anywhere near them! I have often thought, if I was a ram, how does one go about the selection criteria for his mating priority list in a paddock full of hundreds of the-same-looking women (ewes)? I remember once looking at this haggard looking ram at the end of the mating season and asking my husband if he had to go and was amazed when he said to me, “nope, he’s obviously a randy old bugger who has worked his guts out, so I will be keeping him!” Honestly guys, this ram looked like ‘death warmed up’.

Our farm at this time of year is divided up into different maternity ward – little birthing centres for mothers giving birth to singles, twins and triplets, with the best paddocks and grass going to the ones with multiple births. Every day the boys have to go around the stock to check if any of the mothers need assistance. I am always in wonderment how easily ewes can give birth; they just eat grass, give birth, then start eating again! Not all ewes do it easy though, some need a little help to have their babies. I was like those ones. I was a ‘useless ewe’ – big, fat and plump, lying cast-down the side of a hill, legs up in the air, always needing someone to intervene to have my babies! (I would not have lasted long on this farm!)

So, by the end of the birthing season we have done all we can to give the mothers a good start with their offspring, and then it’s all up to mother nature. Our big boys have been marched back to their paddocks to start chalking down the days until they can once again vent their ultimate frustration, and our beautiful ladies are left to love, feed and nurture their darling little babies. So I dedicate this column to all the expectant mothers out there and hope that your impending births are just a walk in the paddock, and to all the ‘ole rams’, don’t worry, your time will come around soon enough!