After 66 years of reindeer herding in Scotland we have had a first. On the 8th May 2018 we had live twins born!
30 years ago we had twins, one was stillborn and the other survived for 12 hours. Since then we have had two sets (2008 and 2015) but both were stillborn so you can imagine our shock when we found them both alive and well.
Their mother Lulu is one of our older females in the herd, at 12 years, and she is taking everything in her stride and not batting an eyelid at the two little bundles following her. She loves them both and lets them feed, however we are giving her a helping hand by offering them a top-up of bottled milk as we feel she hasn’t got enough to sustain two. They spent their first two weeks up in our mountain enclosure where they were born and we have been going out first thing in the morning and last thing at night every day since to make sure they were getting enough milk. They were being supported to suckle from Lulu in their first few days but now they are growing well and coming on leaps and bounds, and feeding themselves.
We of course must remain realistic as this is extremely rare with only one other known case of twins being born in the world: in Finland in 2010. We will do our best by both them and Lulu, making sure she gets extra feed, browse and attention. Summer time is crucial for keeping an eye on reindeer with biting insects causing illnesses which the twins will be more susceptible to so their first six months are going to be a rocky road, however we feel they have rallied through their first two weeks so this amazing news can go public.
One of the first photos featuring Lulu and her twins.Chris assisting with the first sucklesNap timeSuckling togetherChris can’t keep his eyes off the twinsGetting strongerbut still tiredWe gave Lulu and the twins the shed for the first few nights to help the boys save a little bit of extra energy for growing!
It has been a busy few weeks here at reindeer house with with plenty of new calves being born on the hillside. We thought we’d share a few photos of the lovely new members of our herd. Enjoy…
The first calf of 2018 was born on 30th April and is doing great so farTentative first stepsStarting to get the hang of itGetting a trot onTime for a restIt’s tiring work being a few days oldI think this is my calf?The creche is filling upCalving season isn’t quite over yet though!
Mid April here has a definite ‘calm before the storm’ feeling. The area has quietened down as the school holidays have finished and all is peaceful on the reindeer front…but it won’t be for long. At the start of May, all hell will break loose.
A growing belly!
Calving is nearly upon us. Although we know exactly which females ran with bulls during the rut last autumn and should therefore be pregnant now, it’s not easy to tell with a reindeer, and it’s really only into April that bellies start looking that little bit more than just well padded. Scanning them like farmers do with sheep is obviously completely impractical, so all we do is to keep an eye on the possible candidates and watch for rapidly expanding tummies. Literally within a couple of weeks reindeer can go from looking exactly the same as their non-pregnant chums, to looking absolutely enormous! As I write, in mid-April, we’re in the middle of that stage, and every day someone will remark on a particular reindeer’s sudden portliness. The weather has finally warmed up too, and with the reindeer still having their full thick winter coats as well as extra weight to lug about, they are looking like they are starting to find it all a bit of an effort, and there’s lots of huffing and puffing when the herd move from place to place.
A couple of hot and bothered pregnant female reindeer, Blondie and Oatcake.
By the time you read this, we’ll have moved the herd across to our hill enclosure, and will be doing a bit of sorting out. Non-pregnant females will go back out onto the free-range to spend their summer there looking after themselves, while male yearlings will be split from their mums and be moved across to join the other male reindeer at our farm, near Glenlivet. Pregnant females will stay in the hill enclosure until they’ve calved, and then will head out to the hills to join the other females, leaving us to bring male reindeer across to the enclosure from the farm, to duly entertain all the visitors through the busy summer months.
The biggest pregnant belly I’ve ever seen! This is old lass Chime, back in 2010‘A small hairy udder! Seen here on Emmental, with her now two year old Olmec beside her’
Once bellies give away obviously pregnant reindeer, then the next clue is an udder starting to form. Reindeer don’t have huge udders like cows do, as no arctic animal wants a frost-bitten udder, but instead have much smaller, fur-covered udders and produce smaller volumes of milk, but much richer in fat than that from a cow.
Any sign of udders yet?
As many of you probably know, all the staff here take part in a calving bet to pick who they think will calve first. Winning doesn’t really matter; it’s not being last that is most important, as a cold swim in the loch awaits the unfortunate loser (as told by myself and Abby on a previous blog: The Calving Bet. So from now on until the start of May, there will be a lot of inspecting bellies and peering between back legs to be done…
Hello, my name is Olly; I’ve been working at the Reindeer Centre (on and off) for about 3 years now. I first came up volunteering for work experience when I was studying Countryside conservation and Wildlife management at Sparsholt College. I started once more this season in May and since being here there hasn’t been a dull moment.
I keep on being badgered to write a blog but I have never been sure what to say. I am also dyslexic and so unfortunately writing is not one of my favourite things to do, but… I do like to take pictures! So here are some photos of mine that I have taken since I have been back with my perspective on them. And as they say, “a picture paints a thousand words”..
Picture 1: May time is calving time, which means its time for 5am starts, in our search for the newborns out on the hill. I often like an early start (as long as I have a strong coffee) as you’re seizing the day. What a day it was, not a cloud in sight and just a soft cooling breeze with the hill alight with the morning sun. I was also excited to see Black Grouse lekking in the enclosure. We eventually found the new mother Gazelle and her wee one, who was a strong healthy male.
Black Loch looking out to Creag Chalamein
Picture 2: One thing I love about it here are all the lochs and rivers, as a few of us at the Reindeer Centre made a New Year’s resolution to jump in a fresh body of water once a month or week. Trying to do this down south was rather difficult and I had to go to the coast to achieve it. But now in Scotland there’s somewhere to swim around every corner. Since being back I have been in 5 different lochs and a couple of rivers. It may be cold at times but you’re surprisingly warm once you’re out, athough I’m usually on a run when I do jump in so the blood is pumping. But I highly recommend an occasional dip.
Nothing like a quick dip to warm (or cool) the cockles of your heart.
Picture 3 and 4: The long socks and trainers were on, my belly was full of stew and the calf was well rested…. It was time for the cows and calves to head out on the free range. We headed out late in the evening to lessen the chances of us bumping into dogs and as we came over the brow of the hill the hills were looking fierce, but the show must go on.
With Tilly leading one of the females (Fern) on a halter; myself, Fiona, Morna, and Ceris followed from the sides and the back in case the reindeer decide to go their own way. At one point they did, but we managed to get them on the right path in the end.
Pushing them out wasn’t so bad. All you had to do was keep the right distance – far enough not to scare them but close enough to keep them moving. Apart from almost falling off the edge of a scree at one point it was just a case of getting them far out in to the hills. As we let them run off, it was rewarding to see calves running up in to the hills alongside their mothers.
Now came the race against the light! We were lucky and just as it became pitch black we made it back to the van, although going through the trees past Utsi’s bridge was rather eerie. We eventually got back to Reindeer House and celebrated with a wee dram.
The clouds looming low over the hills as we set off.The cows and calves silhouetted against the low cloud.
Picture 5: The woman in this photo herding the reindeer is called Sally. She often wears a shirt with a sunflower design on it which suits her personality to a T. She brings sunshine to Reindeer House as she is a true pleasure to work with, and has to be one of the jolliest people I have ever met.
Sally closely followed by the herd.
Picture 6: Though our days are busy and the hills and forestry tracks are a hive of activity, once the clock reaches 5:30pm Glenmore turns into a ghost town. With the sun setting late in the evening, we go to the hills. It is treat to have this on your doorstep and is a grand way to end the day, by gazing into the distance of this colossal landscape. It really makes you think how small we all are.
The hills shining and bright as the sun goes down. We feel like the only ones alive.
This is the title of a Scottish song about the Travellers (sometimes called Tinkers) who lived a nomadic life which often settled for a short while during the harder winter months. The lyrics show the Traveller anxious for Spring and a new start to traveling.
The guided walk out to the reindeer herd at this time of year is particularly colourful because the broom is in full flower with its multitude of bright yellow flowers. After the muted colours of winter, old heather and deciduous trees without leaves the flowering broom brings splashes of colour into the hills. I can understand why the yellow Broom would have lifted the hearts of many a traveller.
The Hill Trip group paused for a breather at Utsi’s Bridge, about to cross the Allt Mhor Burn. The yellow Broom flowers light up the valley at this time of year.
In fact the daily hill visit to the reindeer which takes us across the Allt Mhor Burn to the summer grazing of part of the herd is incredibly picturesque just now, perhaps making up for the reindeer themselves who can look quite scruffy at this time of year as they lose their winter coats to reveal their short dark summer coats underneath.
Picture of a really scruffy reindeer
From a distance Broom can look really quite similar to Gorse, another shrub which has lurid yellow flowers. Both plants tend to grow in the same kinds of places; heathlands, uncultivated land, roadsides etc. In a dense clump where both are found, it can be hard to tell where the Gorse ends and the Broom begins.
However once you get up close you immediately see the difference, Broom is a large, deciduous shrub, like Gorse, but without the spines. You would never push your way through a gorse bush in shorts, that’s for sure.
The soft stems of broom give no barrier to the hill wanderer.In contrast, gorse is virtually impossible to pass through without a full coat of proection against those spines. Photo by Nigel Mykura.
For me, my personal preference is definitely Broom, with no sharp, jaggy spines and a slightly lighter coloured yellow flower, but it is a mystery to me why some areas are dominated by Gorse and others by Broom.
Perhaps a more learned person than me can come up with the answer..
Spring is flying by – the trees are finally in leaf and the flowers are poking their heads out here on the Cairngorms – but the passing of time is never more obvious than in the growing of the calves.
When the females calve, we move them and their calves into the nursery area up on the hill. Here the mothers get to relax, have uninterrupted access to their food and lichen, and the calves mix with the others. As they find their feet, they also seem to discover the love of jumping, leaping and running, and will often be spotted playing in groups with other calves. They have a lot of energy, and will often stray away from the mothers, but a grunt from their own mother sends them scampering back to safety by her side.
The mothers and calves stay within the nursery area for a couple of weeks, growing nice and strong and getting used to keeping up with their herd. After a couple of weeks, it is time for them to test their newfound skills, by heading out to the free-range for a summer on the hill ground of the Cairngorms National Park.
So a couple of nights ago saw 5 of us herders heading up the hill to the nursery enclosure at about 9pm – everyone wanted to wave them goodbye! We choose to do the moving of the cows and calves late in the day to avoid any unwelcome escapades with hillwalkers’ dogs, and so this means a later finish to the working day than usual..
The mothers seems to know what the plan is, and are keen to get going. One of the main issues is negotiating the enclosure gate – calves don’t understand gates at this young age! Tilly leads the way, and the other 4 of us herders take the back and make sure everyone sticks together.
We lead the herd only a short way from the enclosure as they know the ground themselves well, navigating the nearby burns and steep slopes, sometimes fast but more often slow, and then we say goodbye to the group, and off they go…
The mothers and calves heading off, with the Cairngorms in the distance and some rain-threatening clouds approaching..
We watch for a long while, and then navigate our own way back, enjoying the darkening of the sky and the thought of our beds waiting, and the possibility of a wee dram before bed to send the reindeer off in style.
May is here, and with it comes the first of our reindeer calves of the year! They are long-legged and lovely, stumbling around finding their feet and flopping down in a heap of fur and legs on the heather.
As with many animals, the reindeer seem to prefer calving early morning. So much to our delight, we start at 5am, a couple of us heading up the hill to search out females absent from their dinner the night before. To find them we walk round the 1200acre enclosure, scanning through binoculars for sight of a lone female. On a beautiful morning this is a delight, the Cairngorms behind us tipped red and gold, and the sky turning from white to blue. On a miserable morning this is more of a rain-drenched, hair-dripping, squelchy-shoe, wet-through-to-the-pants kind of job.
After finding her, we check the cow and calf are healthy and if possible, bring them back to our calving enclosure to join the nursery and allow us to keep and eye on them for a few days. So far we have had an equal number of male and female calves, from almost pure black to white, speckled to striped.
A very dark wee male, of almost opposite colour to his mother.Fending for herself while her mother is off feeding, this lovely grey and white speckled female, Christie, was the first calf born this year.A bit of a stretch over the calf to get to the lichen!
Reindeer calves are pretty tough little things, having to get up on their feet and keep up with the herd just a few hours after being born. To help with this they are born with seemingly very long legs for such small bodies, and so keeping balance often makes for a steep learning curve..
A reindeer calf seems more leg than anything else!
Unfortunately, rules are rules and we don’t reveal names of reindeer who have calved until our newsletter in June. So until then, you must wait with baited breath to hear who has had what, and in June we will reveal all!
As the year rolls from March into April, here in the Highlands we start to see more definite signs of spring. The snowdrops have of course been and gone, but now the daffodils are out in their full glory, along with primroses and crocuses. There is a noticeable difference in the grass too – during March there is very little colour in the fields, everything is a washed out browny-yellow. But as April approaches, I start squinting at the verges – is there just a hint of fresh green there? By now there is no doubt, the Paddocks and garden are looking almost lush and their first cut is fast approaching. For all of you down in England, I do appreciate that you’ve probably had the lawnmower out several times already, but we have the longest winters in the UK here – one of the reasons it is still a suitable habitat for reindeer.
Relaxed reindeer with a glorious backdrop. Jenga has the best start on her new antlers of the females.
Up on the mountain, the deer grass is breaking through, and the first migrant birds are arriving back from their winter holidays – there were three ring ouzel squabbling their way along the path as I walked out to feed the herd this morning. I’ve heard tell that the first swallows are in Devon (it’ll still be a few days until they pass by us) and the distinctive osprey pair are back at Loch Garten – we popped along the other day and were glad to see EJ hanging out on the nest, and a brief visit from her long-term partner Odin. Last year I watched a pair circling over the hill enclosure, just checking out Black Loch perhaps before deciding it wasn’t suitable to nest at.
Old girl Lilac still looking superb at nearly 18 years old.
April is a fun time to spend with the reindeer, with anticipation in the air. The females tend to be relaxed and lazy, with heavy tummies and enjoying the fresh grazing starting to come through. Their coats have lost their sheen and are starting to moult, and most of last year’s antlers have fallen off, with some making good progress on this year’s set. Slightly less relaxing (for us, but not the reindeer) is the start of the Easter holidays, with its associated rush of visitors. Having a limit on numbers for the Hill Trip has certainly made our lives less stressful though and hopefully improves the experience for our visitors too – just a reminder to come early if you’re coming for the Trip to make sure you get tickets!
A group of visitors learning about the reindeer, who are delighted to pose whilst they wait for their dinner.
The other slight bit of stress is that all of us herders are assessing who we should pick for our calving “bet” – the annual game of trying to guess who will calve first. Us herders spend a lot of time peering at bellies and potential developing udders, trying to work out who is pregnant and who is likely to calve early. There isn’t any money put down, and indeed no prize for winning, but the person whose reindeer calves last has to swim in the loch! The decisions are mostly made now, but I’m already slightly apprehensive that I’ve made the wrong choice – suddenly everyone else’s choices appear much rounder in the belly department than mine… I’ll stick to my guns though with fingers crossed!
Every time I look at Dixie’s belly I worry that I’ve picked the wrong reindeer for the calving bet!
Normally, spring is a welcome relief after a long hard winter… this year I can’t really claim that as it’s been a very easy winter with little snow, but it’s still lovely to see the lengthening days and warmer temperatures, with the promise of a (hopefully) long, glorious summer ahead. Fingers crossed that it’s warm to make for an easier swim if I end up losing the bet!
For the past few years we have run an ‘in house’ competition to guess which reindeer will calve first. It’s restricted to reindeer herders and based on our knowledge of individual reindeer, when they ran with the bull, how rotund they look and their past history of calving we each choose a reindeer. The winner gets a pat on the back, but the person whose reindeer calves last (or not at all!) has to swim in Loch Morlich.
Loch Morlich is a big expanse of deep cold water constantly rejuvenated with more cold water from the Allt Mhor burn, a fast flowing stream which starts high up in the northern slopes of the Cairngorms, where snow from last winter is still lying. The loser has to complete their forfeit before the end of June.
Last year, I chose Ladybird who was one of the earliest cows to calve from the ones we all picked. I was not going to be the one who took the plunge, that duty was left to Hen, who graciously took the plunge when her reindeer, Lulu, was the last to calve.
This year, I again plumped for Ladybird, with a good track record I guessed I couldn’t go wrong. But how wrong could I be because as all the other cows calved Ladybird showed absolutely no signs of joining the mother/toddler group. With the last calves born it became inevitable that I would be the one getting the wooden spoon this year.
Tiree and Sookie watch as Tilly braves the chilly loch!
As the days slipped by I was suddenly reminded that the end of June was nearly upon us so I would need to fulfil my forfeit soon. Unfortunately everyone had ‘hot dates’ after work on the 30th June so only Fiona, Julia and the dogs, Sookie, Tiree and Moskki were there to witness ‘the boss’ taking the plunge. It was cold and invigorating but I did it! And there are photos to prove it.
No job with animals is entirely “9 til 5”. As reindeer herders, we normally work from 8am to 5pm. In calving season, however, this becomes rather more flexible. When cows are ready to give birth, they tend to head away from the herd to find a nice secluded spot, which in our 1,200 acre enclosure means they can vanish! Every time we feed the herd, we do a head count to check if anyone is missing, work out who they are, then someone will be dispatched to walk round the enclosure looking for them. This means we can hopefully find them not too long after they’ve given birth, check the calf over, spray its navel and put a drizzle of insecticide on their back to protect against ticks. If a reindeer heads off at the morning, this is easy – a herder will walk out. But if a cow is heading away in the afternoon, we take turns to do an “early” – basically starting at the crack of dawn to give ourselves the best chance of an unhurried search of the enclosure.
There can be some cracking views early in the morning
Now, like several of the other herders, I’m really not a morning person, but I never resent taking my turn at an early. There’s something incredibly special about being alone up the hill as the sun rises and the world wakes up for another day. The potential of being the first person to find a newborn calf is also good motivation! I thought I’d fill you in on a typical early start in the calving season…
5am: Painful as it is, the alarm clock buzzes me out of slumber, and I get up and ready quickly, putting toast on and making up a flask of coffee to take with me. I’m entirely dependent on caffeine, especially when I’m awake unsociably early.
5.15am: Out of the door and on the short commute to Reindeer House. This early in the morning it seems that the rest of mankind is still asleep – all I see are numerous wood pigeons (who seem to love sitting on roads in the early morning) and a roe deer buck.
5.30am: Arrive at Reindeer House and swap into the work van. The night before it was prepared with reindeer feed, binoculars and the all important “baby bag” – stocked with lichen, reindeer food, headcollar, antiseptic spray and emergency chocolate. I then drive round the mountain road – it gives a good view across to the enclosure and a bit of an advance idea of where missing reindeer may be hidden – anything to make it a bit less “needle in a haystack”.
5.45am: Shoulder a sack of feed and the baby bag, and walk up to the enclosure. The sun is just coming up, the woods are alive with birdsong, and the day is already warming up. Whilst some of our reindeer cows calve out on the free-range, we use the enclosure for most of them as it provides a safer environment (away from dogs) and means we can keep a bit of an eye on them. They are great mums and rarely have any problems, but just on occasion we can give them a helping hand.
Some of the cows and calves as the sun comes up
6am: Most of the herd are already waiting at the gate, back from their night of wandering, aware that we are on “calving time” and there is a chance an early breakfast may be on offer. I let them in to a different part of the enclosure, feed them, then go along the line of munching reindeer, naming them out loud: “Bumble, Clarinet, Enya, Orkney, Morven…” When I reach the end of the line I scan over the list of the reindeer who should be there and note the absentees – in this case four of the females. One of them we have already seen with her new calf, but we haven’t yet got her in to our “nursery” area of the enclosure. The others are potentially away to calve, or perhaps are just a little late in for breakfast!
The main herd in, fed, counted and ID’d
6.15am: With the herd fed and content, I begin the walk round the enclosure. Everyone ends up with their own favoured route, but in general everyone begins by walking right up and round Silver Mount, the small mountain in the enclosure, before searching the woods. You can expect to be walking for about 2 hours, stopping to peer through binoculars at anything that could be a reindeer (so many reindeer-shaped rocks in this part of the country…). Today it’s already a glorious sunny day and I’ve soon taken off my jumper, but the weather isn’t always so kind – Fiona had the first early of the year in gale force winds and hail! Once I gain the height of the ridge, I spot two of the cows at different places in the woods, but no sign of the third one, so I carry on walking.
Glorious views from the summit of Silver Mount, at 6.30am in the morning.
7.30am: I’ve almost completed my circuit, and haven’t found the third cow, but have had nice views of a cuckoo, tree pipits and a black grouse. We’re lucky to have a huge amount of wildlife set up home within the enclosure, probably because its mostly free of people (apart from when we’re searching for reindeer!) and dogs. Last week there were even two osprey circling above, though I suspect they decided Black Loch was too small for their purposes!
7.45am: I reach one of the cows I’d spotted from the ridge. She stands up when I call to her and despite shaking a bag of food for her, she heads away from me purposefully. There is no calf following at her heels, but her behaviour suggests that she’s soon to give birth, so I leave her to it.
Spot the reindeer! A lone cow is in the centre of the trees.
8am: I find the second cow that I’d spotted, but she is equally as keen to keep her distance, and sadly for me hasn’t calved yet either. Finding a newborn calf is always the highlight, and many of the females are just delighted to get some food, so are completely unconcerned by you checking the gender of the calf, spraying its navel and having a quick cuddle before leading them in to join the group of cows and calves. Some of the cows, however, do turn completely wild once they’ve calved, and won’t come anywhere near you – instinct kicking in to protect the vulnerable calf from any potential danger. Thankfully they tend to calm down after a couple of days.
8.15am: No new calves for me this morning, but I do have the task of getting in the female who calved a few days ago. She isn’t too far from the gateway that I need her to go through, but is in a flighty mood so it is a case of gently herding her in the right direction. I’m lucky that she is happy to go the direction I’d like her to go, as there is no way I can outrun her two-day-old calf! Once through with the group of cows and calves, she immediately comes over for a pile of food – flight mode forgotten!
This is what you’re always hoping to find – a newborn bundle of calf!
9am: With the main herd let back out into the main enclosure, and everyone fed, it is time for me to head back down to the Centre. An unsuccessful morning in a way, with no new calves found and one cow successfully hiding from me (shows how massive the enclosure is!), but when the sun is shining and all the reindeer are well, there’s no way I can begrudge the early start.
Later that day Hen was the lucky one to find the first cow I’d come across with a newborn female calf. Maybe I’ll be treated to a newborn calf the next time!
Getting a trot on
