I had the perfect Easter, as far as I'm concerned.
After sleeping in and doing a little spring cleaning, I went with my friend Korla to help bottle-feed bum lambs at her friend Barb's house. Barb rescues orphaned or "bummer" lambs from a local rancher. If a ewe dies or has triplets or rejects her baby, many ranchers are too busy to nurse them along. I've helped my friend Gay with lambing and trying to save bums, and it's a round-the-clock job for a few weeks.
Today, Barb had 15 lambs in warming pens and maybe another dozen outside, ranging from tiny babies still covered in afterbirth to big, sturdy ones frolicking about. Some of the littlest ones are on the brink of death and it takes lots of coaxing to get them to suck from a bottle. But watching them perk up once they do latch on and begin getting nourishment is so worth it. I have thought for a while that I would like to rescue bums myself, if and when I have my own place.
On our way back to Korla's house, we stopped at the local, small-town convenience store and gas station to grab a couple sodas. I became aware of a sort-of twilight zone realization I get once in a while, which is that when you get just a short distance from Missoula, you enter Montana.
We were maybe 10 miles from downtown Missoula, but it may as well have been another world. The input was all different -- trucks with actual mud on their mudflaps, country music playing in the store, men in Carhartt coveralls, the genuinely friendly smile of the girl behind the counter.
Don't get me wrong -- I love Missoula. This town is authentic, quirky and culturally rich. It has great restaurants and coffee houses, an excellent university and a million things to do. As towns go, Missoula is one of the best. I'm also fortunate to live just outside city limits, so I get a dose of rural and quiet every day. But it takes driving 20 minutes or so to feel like I'm really in Montana -- and that's the Montana I've been trying to get back to ever since I returned to the state in 1992.
My living choices have been dictated by the confines of jobs and school, which necessitate being in a city, when what I really dream of -- what I've dreamed of for as long as I can remember -- is to live at the end of a quiet lane in the middle of almost-nowhere, with my horses, my chickens, my cats and my bum lambs. Someone to share it with would be nice, too. Oh, and a garden.
So close, yet so far.
Anyway.
Korla fed me leftover Easter ham and we had the Coldstone ice cream I'd brought, and then I drove down a dark road back toward the lights of town.
~
Updated March 26: I've been informed that this particular rancher would not, in fact, let the bum lambs die if Barb didn't rescue them, so I've changed that paragraph. I stand corrected.
12 Comments:
Oh, SO sweet!!
Wow, Patia, some of those photos aren't baaa-aaaa-aaaa-aaaad at all!
(I couldn't resist)
Great title and I love that idea...of being so close to Montana, the Montana you think of when think of The West. When we lived out on Bear Cr. (east of Johnsrud) we felt the same way. Hey if you ever decide to drop out, give a holler---we're researching starting a commune (in the loosest sense of the word, more like a co-op).
"Someone to share it with would be nice, too."
You mean, like, Kelly and me?
signed,
'desperately missing Montana'
That is my ideal life as well, just away from it all.
Oh and I am sooooooo jealous of taking care of the lambs. I would do that in a heart bleat (I couldn't resist either).
;)
April and Justin: I was thinking more of a main squeeze, not a bunch of married (or soon to be) couples like you guys!
Actually, at this point, I'd be willing to consider alternatives to solitary or coupled home ownership. Keep me posted.
Rachel: "Heart bleat" -- you rock! That is excellent!
Sounds like an excellent easter. I almost said eggselent but the other puns were so much more clever.
The lambs are adorable...when I worked at the barn the former manager would always adopt and care for bum lambs. She always warned me they usually don't make it...one she cared for was doing so well, even it didn't make it.
This was so sad for me.
Nici: "Eggselent" rocks, too! :-)
A: As Barb said, sometimes they just "decide to die" and there's nothing you can do about it.
Sheep are sweet, but they are also pretty damned helpless.
Well, if you ever need someone to buy that cottage of yours when you find that nice little lane and animals, consider it SOLD.
Sweet little lambs.
When we were little my sister and I helped with the bum lambs from the very beginning. There are quite a few pictures of both of us at various ages hanging in our baby packs off the fence while mom loaded up the bottles. When the bottles were empty the little ones would suck on our toes.
Kelly: You mean the cabin I live in now? It's a rental. But if you ever want to do a vacation exchange, let me know!!
Moose: That's adorable! You should post one of those pics on your blog!
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