Lindy’s Time
Lindy nibbled at the hay I held to her mouth, then laid her head weakly on the straw inside the tentlike shelter in the pasture. She still wasn’t getting up. For four days in the February cold my three-year-old ewe had lain here, miserable, unable to give birth to the obviously huge baby (or was it twins?) straining against her swollen belly. Despite watching hours of lambing videos online, I doubted I could be the midwife she needed.
The only large-animal veterinarian in the area was out of town. The on-call vet had advised, “Just watch her.” What did he think I’d been doing? Every two hours round the clock, I’d sat with Lindy, coaxing her to eat and drink. Nothing had changed. Desperate, I’d messaged other shepherds online. “She’s been down too long to survive,” most of them
