I’ve taught many people to make bread, and there’s a point in the process where words fail.   You have to take the other person’s hands, press them into the dough, and tell them “this is what it should feel like.”  No huge surprise that this sheep thing works the same way.  On my first visit to the barn this morning, I was greeted with this:

Yesterday’s lamb was inconsolable, even with a full belly of milk from a feeding tube.  His poor hypoxic brain wasn’t able to solve the nursing puzzle, and though I tried putting his mouth on the teat over and over, he wasn’t getting it.  I wasn’t sure if my technique was to blame, or if the lamb wasn’t yet capable nursing, but he was not happy.  It didn’t seem to help matters when I explained that he was a mammal, and that this act was central to his identity as such.

Luckily, I had a get-together scheduled with Bill Fosher this afternoon.  He was going to teach me how to castrate lambs with a tight rubber band, another task better shown than described.  Bill joined the ewe and lamb in their jug, and within about 10 minutes had the lamb successfully nursing.  I watched very carefully, and I think I have a better chance of getting it right next time.  The lamb’s technique is a little unorthodox, but he’s got a full belly and has stopped screaming.