we started the morning early. with a puppy that has an internal time clock of dawn, mike is usually up getting that first walk completed before i wipe the sleep from my eyes. the vet was scheduled for 9:30 and our caretaker had moved the yaks to the lower pasture, in an attempt to make moving them into the chute and squeeze (note farm lingo) a bit less daunting. good idea.
up early with an empty fridge, we hustled into town for a hearty breakfast and hot cup of joe. i had seen a little cafe on previous runs through our small town, i couldn't recall the name, but i did remember the tag line...where the locals meet. i want to eat where the neighbors eat. who doesn't?
on our way to the ranch the previous eve, we noticed something we hadn't seen before. fields that were irrigated and green all summer, were suddenly dotted with head upon head of sheep and newborn lambs.
this morning i was hoping to get a few good shots of the lambs playing. when we pulled astride the pasture, we noticed a newly born lamb trying to get its mama's attention, and grab its first milk. i admit, i was getting a bit upset because it seemed that the mother really wasn't interested, which can happen when the mother is young herself. while i was silently urging the sheep to stop and notice her young, mike spotted the twin. it wasn't doing well at all, and looked as if it were at its last breath. slowly dying in the cold field. i flagged down the caretaker, and told him of the concern. he seemed unfazed, grabbed the dying lamb and tossed it into the truck. mike appeased me by telling me fairy tales of warm blankets and bottle feeding.
we drove off a little more jaded, and with ideas of how we plan to do it differently.
the neighborhood cafe is tiny. i mean really tiny. a horseshoe shaped counter with schoolhouse chairs, the place can hold 10 people if you squeeze. the menu standard, strong coffee in mix-matched mugs, a chatty owner-slash-waitress-slash-cook, who knows everyone, and all the town's secrets. and now she knows us.
unfortunately, we spent so much time lamb-worrying and chit-chatting that we didn't have time for breakfast. grabbing our meal to go, we rushed back to the ranch to prepare for the vet's visit.