|Manny: May I help you?|
Not the case. They're just sequestered in a spot that is hard to photograph.
When Cricket got sick at the end of the summer, but before he finally died, I made one last ditch effort to break the hold the parasites had on the lambs by moving them to a shed in the front yard that was separated from all the other animals and free of any possible parasite contamination. Then I started stuffing their little faces with hay and grain, lots and lots of grain, as though I intended to eat them myself. Ha.
Bottom line? They thrived. There in their dark little hole (there's no fenced area for them to go outside) they have grown and grown and grown. Three months on and with only a few minor issues they are, or seem at least, huge and healthy. Only Butterfly, the little black ewe lamb is still very small, but she is genetically unrelated to the others so I think it's just her. I can also still feel one too many ribs on Firefly, the ram, but he's grown a lot as well.
Bumblebee, people might be pleased to hear, is doing extremely well and has a lovely fluffy fleece all grown in.
I sorely wished I'd done this in time to save Cricket.
Fortunately, no signs yet of any breeding readiness on the part of Firefly or the ewes. I really believe their maturation was impacted too much by the worms to manage anything this year. Fortunately. At least I hope so for their sakes.
Another month or two and I will grit my teeth and move them back to the barn in the pasture and come spring I'll let them out on grass. I have a field resting up, just for them.
Someone may have to sedate me to get me to do this, but that's the plan.
I caught them sleeping in a spot of afternoon sun the other day. They always pop up as soon as I walk in. The eldest, Manny, typically leads the way. Followed close behind by the rest.