Miracle moves back to the barn

Huge news in the world of Miracle. On Monday afternoon the vet told us he should be reunited with his mother with hopes that he might nurse from her. We all felt sad at this idea as the imprinting seemed to have happened both ways, but we also knew it was the best for the little lamb. Plus, changing a lamb's poopie diaper isn't actually as charming as it sounds. There's a lot of wool. And a tail. An honest part of me was relieved that Miracle might go back to the barn where no one needs their diaper changed. Three in diapers in the house was a little much.

So we brought Miracle out to his Mama, Fluffy Cloud. A few things before you watch this video. 1) Fluffy Cloud looks very ratty because while she is eating her hay each day, her next door neighbor, goat Darcy, will reach over the wall of their stalls and eat her wool off. It looks worse than it is. Basically, if we could get Darcy to do an even job on Fluffy Cloud, we wouldn't have to sheer her in a month or two. And that would be awesome. 2) The other baby goat that appears at the very end is Miracle's twin sister. And she's huge! Like double the size of Miracle. I have so much to tell about her, but until then, just know that we have named her Big Sister. 3) This is basically two full minutes of lambs sniffing each other. So I won't be offended if you skip through it.
All of this happened on Tuesday morning. And now it is Thursday night. Rory summed it up best when he said, "well Fluffy Cloud fully accepted her baby back. But her baby won't accept his new living arrangement." And it's true. He is so sorry for himself. We can watch him on our LambCam from the house (a webcam Rory set up so we can always see our animals. It's seriously the best thing ever.) and for a whole day he lay with his head pointed to the corner, the corner where we walk out of the barn. He was flat out depressed and clearly enjoyed his life of diapers.

Also, he wouldn't nurse off of his mama. Still won't. So every 3-4 hours we walk out to the barn and bottle feed him. But we're trying to get him less attached. It sounds so harsh, but the truth is, he is a lamb. And his best life would be with other sheep, walking happily out to the pasture. The worst thing would have been if he had been unaccepted by the other sheep. That would be unsafe for him and then really bad news as he gets older. So his best life is out in the barn. It's just hard to tell him that.

But Big Sister. Oh man. I will leave you on this high note because it warms my heart so much. While watching the LambCam I have seen SO MANY happy moments when Big Sister is trying to make friends with Miracle. I sit at the computer and give words to what everyone is saying and here's what I imagine:

Big Sister: Hey! Where have you been! I missed you! I was born and then you were born and then you were just gone! And now you're back! You should try jumping on your feel like I am. It's so fun!

Miracle: Go away.

Big Sister: Our Mom is awesome! She's so nice! She feeds me whenever I want to eat! And she snuggles with me at night. You're going to love her!

Miracle: I miss my family in the house.

Big Sister: You mean the farmer? Oh he comes out here all the time! You'll see him plenty. He's always near. He gives us HAY! Have you ever had hay before?!! We go bananas for it! Really, you should stand up and jump. Here, I'll nuzzle you and try to get you to stand.

Miracle: I don't like it out here. I want to go back where I was. I was so comfortable.

Big Sister: Well, if the farmer brought you out here, then this must be the best place for you. He'll never leave you, but he probably just wants you to be what you were created to be. A jumping, frolicking, happy sheep! Oh it's gonna be so great! Mom said that in a couple weeks the farmer will open up those big doors and he'll lead us out to a pasture. A green pasture! And we'll just eat all day. Maybe just lay in the shade. And for sure we'll frolick. Oh come on, stand up and jump with me! I'll nuzzle you again.

Miracle: No. I just want to be sad. I'm just sad and alone and confused and...so sad.

Big Sister: Well you're not alone. And it's fine that you're sad but I don't think you will be for long. The good news is that you are a lamb and you are now back where lambs belong. So I will just lay down here beside you and stretch my neck out reeeaaaal far and lay it on your body. Because you're not alone. And the farmer is here all the time. You'll see. He'll bring us all food in the morning and at dinner time. And often he just comes in to work on things. You still have him. And you have me. And Mom and Bubble Gum and Sugar Cookie and December. And we clearly have a very special life ahead of us full of blue skies and new grass and warm sunshine so lets just...go...to...sleep...

Imprinting

Miracle is fully one of us. He now can jump this little play pen with ease and follows us wherever we go. If I go to the fridge, he clip clops behind me. If I go to the bathroom, he'll keep me company. Same goes for Rory and Ivar. But he knows the ones who feed him, and is most attached to Rory and me.

We took this little video to show how connected he is to us. He does not want to be any distance away from where we are.
good shepherd from Becca Groves on Vimeo.

And Rory is happy to oblige. Miracle is not lacking love and he's got six housemates who adore him.

to brighten up your monday

Another favorite, right here. Reading a book about the 23rd Psalm, no less. This post is for my niece Mara who told me on the phone, "and don't you worry about over-blogging. I want to see pictures!"

...and honestly, what else would I write about? This is the greatest and we're all in love with Miracle.

Susie, I just got your comment and was so grateful for your kind words and also wanted to answer your question of what our long range plan is for Miracle. The honest answer is that we have no idea. We are in actual one-day-at-a-time decision making. Rory would like to get him back to the barn in a separate pen with a heat lamp, just so he knows that he's a lamb. But neither of us are super eager to walk to the barn at 10pm, 2am and 6am to bottle feed him. We will go the vet this week and she will hopefully be able to tell us what is possible. So we will see, day by day, we will see!

his name is miracle.

This picture kills me. His little hoof! There's nothing left to say! Except that I have the best news to share. We have a full blown walker. A jumper. A sideways hopper. Last Monday night my sister was putting her three very sad girls to bed, and they were devastated that Little Love was going to be put down. Annika texted me and said, "Svea says if the lamb can ever walk it's name should be Miracle." And then on Tuesday morning Ivar said the same thing. And at that moment it definitely felt that way. There was just no chance. It would be a miracle if his legs could ever bear weight.

In a super cool twist, our sermon that Sunday had been on different spiritual gifts and one of our pastors shared that in order to see a miracle, you have to be in a position where you need a miracle. And most of us don't actually ever want to be in that position. It's a dire place to be.

Rory and I talked about that line of the sermon at 5 am on Monday morning, watching the Mama Ewe fight for her life. We were in the position of needing a miracle and it was terrifying. And then with Little Love. We needed a miracle, and it didn't feel very likely.

But here he is. With a crooked neck and a front left leg that bows way out, our Little Love now walks all around. Especially once we figured out we could wrap a second diaper around his mid section. This leaves him fully diapered so he now walks around our living room. He follows Rory and is very sad to be left alone. He's become a pet, definitely. We love him so much.

And now his name is Miracle. It's doesn't quiet roll of the tongue but I like that every time we call for him we will remember what we have seen. And when we call to him he will joyfully remind us of his troubled legs, now sufficiently working, as he bounds sideways, sometimes backwards, once in a while forward, so excited to get to us and nuzzle his head into us for some love and affection.

a joyous update on Little Love

I wanted to post all of this last night, but when the time came, I wanted to go to bed more. First, the mama Ewe is doing great. We are completely amazed that she is. Of course there still could be complications with infection but so far she is doing great and nursing Twin One and is eating and drinking and looking quite healthy. 

And then there is Little Love. I want you to know I had hope that he might be able to walk by next week, but I wasn't actually very hopeful. His hind legs could support nothing. They bent in under his body and I had to stretch them into position over my thigh to get them to extend properly. He couldn't support his bottom, so I always was holding his diaper up with one hand, trying to train his legs where to go. Rory was working with him a lot too. 

And then last night, just before dinner, we tried his exercises again. The truth is, Little Love wanted to stand so badly. He was trying so, so hard. And for just a few seconds, he stood on his own four legs. Then he stood a little longer, and backed up a bit. Rory kept catching him and helping him back to his feet. And then, all at once, he took a few steps forward.

We were overjoyed! None of us saw this coming! We thought we were just being kind to this guy, giving him the best life possible, as long as possible. And now we're watching a flat out miracle, right in our living room. Ivar and I have been singing, "We call out to dry bones, come alive! come alive!" one of our favorite worship songs. And we're watching his bones come back to life!

It's fun to have a little lamb in the house, especially with Holy Week beginning on Sunday. There are so many things we will talk about...the resurrection of the body, life everlasting, the lamb of God, the ultimate sacrifice, conquering death, defeating sin, death and disease. And the Hope of Glory filling our hearts because we know what we are seeing is true.