It is quite wonderful to have lambs on the farm again. Their names are Constance and Merricat (thanks Shirley Jackson). When I moved to the country almost two decades ago, I came up with a truckload of sheep.

I got the so I could work with them and the border collies I was learning to train.

I rented a ram and had lambs in the midst of a blizzard in January. I didn’t know enough to make sure the lambs came in spring or summer, not in February during a blizzard.

Lambs have a distinct, urgent, and pleading call. I didn’t hear them bleating in the pasture that first night, they hád been separated by the ferocity of the storm from their mothers.

My border collie Rose heard them and bit my ear until I got up. We had a dozen lambs born that night, we didn’t lose a single lamb. Rose was the greatest dog I ever had.

I opened a window that night and could hear the sound of the panicked lambs looking for their mother, but I couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of me, the story was so intense.

Rose took charge; she found the lambs, went and rounded up their mothers, got them all together, and we slowly marched them all down into the big barn, where I scrambled to set up the warming lights, dry of the lambs, make sure the right lambs were with their mothers.

It was a brutally cold night, and three of my fingers suffered frostbite by the end of it. A first responder down the road saved them for me, although they still sting and go numb on cold days.

It was insane, really. I know nothing about farms or lambing, although I got a Master’s Decree in lambing by the time our lambing season was over.

But I loved lambing, and Rose always made sure I got through it. I’ll never forget the scene on that awful night as Rose went up the hill and, one by one, brought the frightened moms back to their babies. I could never have taught her to do that; I’m still unsure how she managed to do it.

I learned more each year – when to breed, how to breed, and get the barns ready with the right tools and medical supplies. I lambed five or six times; it was one of the most special experiences of my life in the country.

By the end, I was docking tails with a heated clipper like a champ.

We don’t lamb anymore, we have enough sheep, and both of us are busier than we were then. But we just got two lambs from Vermont and are getting another; they are all Romneys.

One of our Romneys died last year; another is getting wobbly. Constance and Merricat have beautiful wool; Maria can’t wait to see it (and sell it.)

I love hearing the sound of lambs calling out to their mothers; it is an ancient and uplifting noise.