Episode 12 This Farming Life

Across some of the most beautiful

and remote landscapes of the British Isles...

This is not a bad office, is it? You know, look at it.

..Scotland's farmers carve a living...

Everything has got a time and a season.

-Nature doesn't stop.

-..breeding sheep and cattle...

There's a lot of old friends here,

they've come to the end of their working life. Quite a sad day.

Wait a second!

..bringing new life into the world...

..and battling with the elements.

They're all cute in their own way,

and especially if they end up on your plate as a lamb chop, yum.

Over a year, five very different families

let cameras onto their farms...

Hell of a size of nuts on him.

..and into their lives, to share their struggles...

-I don't know why you want the...

-Do you need to do this?

..and their triumphs...

Look at my baby. He's alive.

..as they try and turn a profit in testing economic times.

That's just depressing, that, really.

There's cause for celebration...

Gorgeous.

..and a time to reflect.

I feel sad that I haven't provided the next generation

to carry on here.

But it's never dull.

I'm not letting go!

It's not a job, it's a way of life.

We look back over a hectic and dramatic year for the farmers.

A year dictated by the changing seasons.

For many, the working year kicks off in the autumn.

Autumn can be, sometimes, the most beautiful time of year.

The colours can be stunning.

It's also pretty frantic because there's timescales to get to,

and things that have to be done, so it is a busy time of year.

No-one enjoys going from summer into autumn, in the summer

we have daylight at midnight and it's just a joy to be out and about.

Then the year turns and the nights start drawing in very fast

and we know where we're going.

On the Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides, 30 miles off

the north west coast of Scotland...

..the heavy autumn schedule of sheep work

is about to begin for

barrister-turned-crofter Sandy Granville.

Autumn is one of the busiest times of the year.

There's plenty going on, there's plenty going on on the croft,

gathering and sorting of animals.

Today, Sandy is heading out of Lewis to an uninhabited island

called Seaforth, to gather up the island's only residents -

sheep.

Get out of there, man!

HE WHISTLES

As dictated by tradition, the flock are all owned by different

crofters but have been grazing together on common land.

-Come here!

-That'll do, Blake, come here.

Crofting is a tradition that's unique to the

Highlands and Islands of Scotland.

Stay there, now!

Dating back to the late 19th century,

crofts are small plots of poor quality land with

common grazing rights that are part of a community

where much of the work is shared.

I love this.

I can think of nothing better to be doing than

being on the hills and the islands.

It's one of the greatest ways to spend your life

working these wild sheep.

But it's a tradition that's disappearing.

These hills and islands used to be full of sheep and now there's very

few, just people from a few villages and mostly we're pretty old.

It's been said that if you come to one of our sheep gatherings,

it's like a Saga outing.

The group are trying to drive a flock of 60 sheep

into the handling pens by the shore for sorting.

But the sheep, who've been living wild here

for the last year, have other ideas.

At the pens, they need to weed out the male sheep

destined for slaughter, from the ewes that only need to be sheared.

They're bad buggers, aren't they?

The ewes aren't Sandy's.

But everyone chips in with the shearing using traditional

tools that have been around for centuries.

Well, you're an old woolly.

Most people here use the shears or they call it the jeavish.

It's not as fast as using mechanical shears but you can shove them

in your pocket and take them anywhere.

Shearing done, the wedders, or castrated male sheep, need to

be taken back to Lewis where they are destined to become mutton.

-Do you want me to come back or stay over?

-No, no. Stay over.

The only way is by boat.

Six at a time.

So they must ferry them across in shifts.

All aboard, they set off on a ten-minute boat ride.

Sea shepherding, moving livestock between islands,

has been a common practice in the Scottish Isles for centuries

but if crofting were to die out, so would this unique tradition.

I have a role in what is a dying way of life.

And I would love to think that we could get another generation

doing this, producing this great meat.

But if we are the last, we're having a great time doing it.

As autumn rolls along, sheep work is also

the order of the day for hill farmers Sybil and George Macpherson.

They farm 2,000 sheep

in 15,000 acres

of rugged mountain terrain, in Western Scotland.

I don't farm because I think I'm ever going to be rich,

especially not in this part of the world.

But I do farm because I passionately enjoy it

and I do think that we are producing something very meaningful,

not only in that as custodians of the land,

but also in the type of food which we produce.

This is the time of year for gathering sheep.

Today, they're going to bring in a flock of 500

scattered over six square miles,

for mating or tupping.

In, in, in.

So they're taking their best dogs

and enlisting the help of friends Jake and Arthur.

-There we are.

-Now, no scrapping.

Will, that's directed at you.

The plan is to head to the top of the hill and spread out.

C'mon, c'mon, c'mon on up.

Perfect day for gathering sheep.

Sybil, Jake, Arthur and their dogs

will approach from one end on foot...

..while George will advance from the other side on his quad bike.

If all goes well, they'll meet in the middle

and drive the whole flock towards the loch

and along the glen to the farm.

It really is just us in a line making the sheep aware that

we're coming behind them so they'll start to move the right way.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

It's a job that takes some skill.

A lot of being able to gather hills is to do with having sheep

sense and understanding what they're likely to do,

what their capabilities are, how fast they can run,

and being tactical, as well as actually having tremendous dogs.

You can get away with quite a lot if you can read the situation.

Trying to control sheep used to living wild across such

difficult country has its risks.

The terrain's quite steep and there's a lot of peat bogs,

underground water channels that you could lose yourself in.

I do get a bit tense at gatherings in case anything goes wrong,

because, well, it's dangerous ground.

It's pretty important to try and get it right and I do worry.

Hello, George?

Hello, George?

-OVER WALKIE-TALKIE:

-'Hello.'

Remember to keep your finger on the button

when you're speaking to me, darling!

'Get your finger out, darling!'

OK, we're slow, sorry, we're coming now quickly!

Now the entire party must synchronise their efforts or

the sheep could escape and if any of the weaker ones are left behind,

they won't survive the harsh winter.

We're working as a team here, we're all in a line.

There's Sybil above me and then Jake.

George was further forward than us this morning,

so we have to go quickly to catch up, otherwise the line,

the sort of sweep line is broken.

Together for 18 years and married for 12,

Sybil and George are used to working as a team.

We get on extremely well together,

I know how incredibly lucky I am,

that we can work all day and very seldom a cross word.

Two hours should take us home, so we should be fine, eh.

Now, it should be fast work driving the sheep down

to the holding pens on the farm.

No, it's a pleasure. This is the best part of our job.

It's a fantastic office.

Do you want me to open the gate?

Please!

Eh?

Please!

Finally, the sheep are in. Tomorrow, they'll need sorting.

'At this time of year it's important to look through all the sheep

'that, if there's anything a bit dodgy...'

Come on, ladies!

'..can either treat it and it hopefully recovers,

'or else decide that that sheep's not really fit for living out

'here any more, in which case she has to go to market.'

For now, it's time to take a break.

Now we're at the post gather party!

It's tradition in the west coast when you come in off the hill,

you get a dram and a beer and we're very much into tradition!

HE LAUGHS

The seasons dictate many of the key events in the farming calendar.

Autumn is also mating or tupping time for the sheep.

The loss of daylight at this time of year brings the ewes into season.

It affects their hormones so they're ready to mate.

Autumn tupping means lambs in spring.

In the north-east of Scotland, north of Aberdeen,

cattle breeder Martin Irvine and his fiancee, shepherdess Mel,

are getting ready to increase their flock.

I'd said to Martin when I'd met him years ago that I like sheep,

and did he realise that one day I'll just come home with sheep?

Mel persuaded Martin to take on a contract to manage over

500 ewes for the local estate...

..as well as invest in their own flock of 134.

Come on!

To breed from their ewes and expand their flock,

they went to buy some virile young tups.

We're looking for a big strong manly tup with a nice round bum,

a long back and the head, mmm?

-Yeah, something that's pleasing to the eye.

-Yeah.

Ken, something with plenty of meat on it,

something that's going to produce plenty of lambs, should I say.

We always have a feel.

And see that they're not soft or spongy, they're quite firm.

Hell of a size of nuts on him.

Today, Mel will find out if she chose well with her new tups.

She's going to introduce them to the ewes.

Her plan is to split them into small groups across different fields,

so all the ewes get an equal slice of the action.

Watch!

For Mel's tups to earn their keep across the five-week mating

season, they'll each be expected to get 50 females pregnant.

Wouldn't be a bad life being a tup, you get to chill out all year

and then there's five weeks of the year it's just bliss!

They're away to get sex for the next five weeks!

They're away to mate!

They're away to mate for the next five weeks!

Some of the ewes will actually come to the tups,

-they'll be in season.

-They're ready.

They're ready, they know what's going on.

The boys have been at the job before,

they'll know what's going on, they'll be...whifft!

To prepare the tups for their grand entrance,

Mel uses a thick, oily paint called raddle

so she can keep track of the ewes that have been mated.

So when it comes to lambing,

you're looking for the ones with the red bums

-because when the tup jumps the ewe...

-It leaves a mark.

..his chest will be on her bum and her back

and that's where the paint and raddle will rub off.

Slap it on.

So that's him got his war paint on.

Girls! Come on!

Right, boys.

Come on, girls!

He knows what he's doing.

It's showtime for the tups.

It's quite good watching all the tups run away,

chasing all the women.

It lets you know they're in the mood and excited.

This is tupping time.

Now, that ewe that's standing,

I would say that she is probably ready to be served.

That's it. That was it.

I feel pretty good when I see this, like.

HE LAUGHS

Some folk might think it's a bit creepy standing them there

and doing their job but

this is what we've bought them for and this is what they're going to

do, that's the only thing that they need to do

-is stay alive and make babies.

-Yeah.

Look down there, we've got a girl with a red bum here,

another one with a red bum, another one with a red bum.

The new tups seem to be up to the job and with any luck,

come spring, Mel will increase the size of the flock

and the farm's income.

And there goes another one.

Done. Where there's a willy, there's a way!

Winter.

It's cold and wet and the days are getting shorter

but there's no let-up for the farmers.

We're on a farm.

Nature doesn't stop and everything has got a time and a season

that happens irrespective of what happens round about.

The farm has got to work and everybody's got to get on

and do what they have to do.

You can't leave the animals stuck in a place where they can

get into distress or into trouble, you've got to look after them.

Winter for me is a busy time of the year.

It's real long hours. Dark days.

With all the cows inside needing fed and bedded every day,

cows coming into calf.

When everyone else is winding down for the Christmas holidays,

farmers, we've to work 24/7, right through it.

One of the winter jobs for the Macphersons is to send

some of their cattle away to Lowland farms,

to be kept indoors during the cold winter months.

Come on, 99! Good girl.

George is bringing them down from the hills today.

Having lived mostly wild since the spring, some are a little lively.

Oi, Rhona, you behave, you already got me.

Most of this herd are breeding cows that live for around 14 years,

so during their time on the farm,

George and Sybil get to know them well.

Follow on, everybody, in you go. On you go, come on.

You're very skinny, Bonny.

'I've got a much softer spot for some than others.'

Come on, 209, on you go. Come on, lass, on you go.

'They're all a different character,

'they respond to different situations differently,

'just like human beings do.' Come on, Willy.

'And yeah, we get very attached to them.'

Just to let you know I'm behind you.

That's Willy, Twisty, Tiny, Moira,

Grant, Rhona...

No, this one hasn't got a name, 606, it doesn't have a name.

Come on, Clunky. That Rhona's a bully, she boxes everybody.

She boxed George coming down the hill.

Didn't you, Rhona? You're naughty.

COWS MOO

The majority of the herd are Saler crosses.

They would struggle to stay fit and healthy

living outside in an Argyllshire winter.

Without sheds to house them,

sending them away is Sybil and George's only option.

The transporter lorry is here.

It is not the bonniest day

but it is usually a day like this when we do this, I can assure you.

The weather has turned really, really nasty.

Sadly, the wind and the rain has made the cows quite spooky.

They hate the wind.

The weather isn't the only hurdle.

The calves, now six months old, need to be weaned to help their mothers

recover from constant milking,

so they're going to be separated.

COWS MOO

For a few days the cows will break their hearts looking for the calves

and it is quite sad to be removing them.

Management-wise and condition-wise for the cows, it's the very best

thing that can happen because they need a break from, from milking.

When the weather turns bad and the grass stops growing

and the cows are milking and they lose condition quickly.

But for the first few days, they roar and roar and roar,

and the calves will cry and cry and I must say, I find it quite,

quite upsetting to listen to them.

It is very stressful.

COWS MOO

Come on, Woolly.

The mothers and calves will be going to different farms and need to

be loaded into separate compartments on the lorry for an easy delivery.

The calves are first on board.

C'mon, guys, it's for your own good, I kid you not.

It's for your own good.

Come on. Come on.

Enticed by the scent of their young, the mothers follow.

Finally, they're all on board.

It's a huge relief to know that tonight, all those calves,

wee calvies will be lying, you know, knee deep in straw in a shed.

OK, they'll be breaking their hearts looking for their mothers,

but they'll be out of this wet, wind and rain.

The lorry will deliver this first batch of mothers

and their calves to separate farms 100 miles away.

The cows will return when the harsh winter is over.

150 miles away, on the other side of Scotland,

the cattle at Martin Irvine's farm are housed in sheds

through the cold winter months.

Winter is one of the two main calving periods and it's busy.

Over 60 calves have already been born this year

and the latest is about to arrive.

Five-year-old Limousin heifer, Duchess, is ready to give birth.

Martin's family have gathered as they fear this

calving could be difficult.

COW MOOS

Duchess is overdue and overweight and last year her calf died.

The problem I've got with this calf is the umbilical cord's

right up at the front here, so it's going to get snapped early.

So that only gives us minutes to get this calf out

so we have to be quick as we can getting this calf out.

If that cord snaps, soon as we start pulling,

you've only got two to three minutes to get this calf out and going.

Duchess has been in labour for almost four hours.

The size of the calf's feet confirms Martin's fears.

That's the left leg.

It's unusually big and Duchess will need help to get it out.

OK, through the other side.

They need to use a calving jack, a piece of equipment that needs

expert handling or it can damage the calf.

It attaches to ropes around the front legs

and can provide powerful leverage.

Hold on. So that's the ropes on the feet.

Dad, he'll work the jack and I'll make sure

the head and everything's coming up the right way.

So, Dad, put a bit of pressure, stop.

It's too big.

She's tight.

Right, we need ropes for the head.

Where's my ropes for her head?

The calf's head is stuck.

COW MOOS

Right, pal, watch yourself.

COW MOOS

COW MOOS

It's going to go!

Just keep going, she's not going to push that hard.

Right! Right, right, go, go, go!

Stop!

Wait till the calf's turned.

Finally, the massive calf is born.

But it's hardly responding.

COW MOOS

-Dangle him. Dangle it.

-Lift it!

Lift it!

They need to get it to breathe and fast.

Steven!

Over the wall, Martin.

HE BLOWS

-Over the wall, Martin.

-Just wait a second!

HE BLOWS

Lift him now, lift him straight up!

Mel, lift!

Swing, to me.

Drop!

It looks brutal but this could save its life.

Over the wall, Martin.

The calf still isn't breathing, its eyes are dull.

Throw his heid ower.

Right, front leg. Front legs!

COW MOOS

It's coming , it's coming.

Holding the calf upside down helps clear the glut or

amniotic fluid blocking its throat.

OK, throw him back.

At last, it takes its very first breath.

Unless they cough and splutter, they don't get that bit up

and then they drown.

So that's why it was all systems go.

-Thick, very thick.

-It's just like jelly, aye.

It's been a huge ordeal.

When he was out he was gone, there was nothing in the eye.

Until he just got a bit of air in his lungs,

his heart was still going.

So I had to blow and get a bit of air into his lung

and get him going again.

Everything that could have went wrong, kind of did go wrong.

Everyone has a bit of a panic.

This could be worth 30 grand.

He's still got a bit of glut in his lung, so Mel's

tickling his nose pretty much to make him cough.

Make him kind of gasp and push his air out a bit better.

He's almost there doing it. That's better.

What you want to do is see him shake his head.

-Yeah, there we go!

-There you go.

-Yay!

Yay!

-Bedtime.

-All right.

The massive calf will be called Jumbo.

December on the farm for me is a grim time of year.

I absolutely loathe the winter, I hate the long dark nights.

I hate the fact that the weather is normally cold, wet,

inclement and uncomfortable for outdoor animals.

It really is a very, very unpleasant day,

here in Argyll this morning.

They're long, cold, hungry months and I don't like them.

-RADIO:

-'BBC Radio Scotland.

'Met Office amber "be prepared" warnings are in place

'for the west coast and also the Highlands...

'Winds gusting up to 80mph, there'll be disruption...

'Severe weather over the Atlantic is predicted to cause high seas

and strong winds across Scotland overnight...'

On the Isle of Lewis, in the Outer Hebrides,

winter brings wind and fierce storms.

The weather's quite wild really, really wild.

This is the first really good gale of the winter.

Sandy has 12 Highland cattle and today he must bring them

down from the hill because the vet is coming to check them.

Force 11 winds won't prevent Sandy from carrying

out his crofting duties.

Come, come. Come by.

OK, we're off.

As a crofter, Sandy's cattle graze on the island's common land.

He's hoping to find his herd sheltering amongst

the rocks on one of their favourite hills.

The wind is blowing at over 60mph.

It's a fine thing to be testing yourself against

a hard physical challenge.

Many people would think it doesn't look very pleasurable

but for others, there's a lot of joy in it.

Highland cattle originated in Scotland

and are ideally suited to these harsh conditions.

Their coats are double layered with a fine, insulating inner coat

and a well oiled, shaggy outer coat.

Highland cattle, they wouldn't be chosen by

farmers in softer places, but they're suited to our hills,

they live outside all the time.

They've usually got a cheery

smile on their face

'no matter how fierce the weather.'

Pretty grim, pretty grim. Probably going to get worse yet.

Sandy only needs the calves but they won't come down

without their mothers so he must try to lead the

whole bedraggled herd down to his pens.

In a way it gets harder as you get older, but in other ways

we get cleverer and manage to make jobs easier for ourselves.

In the end, we'll be too old and weak to carry on,

but we haven't quite reached that point yet.

Winter is the hungry season, when nothing is growing

and animals depend on fodder, or conserved food to survive,

and this means extra work for the farmers.

But spring is now just around the corner.

I don't particularly like the winter months, I really miss the sun.

I like sun, I like to feel the sun on my back.

I always feel spring's round the corner when you start to

see the bulbs coming out.

The snowdrops are popping through, and then you'll get the crocuses

and the daffodils and that's when I feel,

"Oh, spring's just about there."

And you feel just the brightness.

We're waiting and waiting and waiting for spring to come

and today we heard the first curlew, which is a big lift,

it's about ten days late, I think. But the noise of a curlew

on a spring morning is just music to my ears, I just love it.

So many signs that we look out for every year.

It may seem totally daft, but they're big

tick-offs in our springtime diary - the bumblebee, the first frogspawn.

The seasons of the year, they are very linked with farming.

You all have particular jobs you have to do,

you're starting to prepare for lambing time and you are sorting

the ones you're going to keep,

so everything is linked and I like that.

In the far north of Scotland, near Inverness,

large-scale farmer, John Scott runs a successful business with over

1,000 acres and 4,000 sheep.

As a farmer being out and about every day,

you're always looking for the first signs of spring.

There are signs and there are smells.

It's a great time of year, that's when the farm looks its best,

everything's growing, the crops are through the ground.

But I suppose for us, as sheep farmers,

the real sign of spring is lambs.

Lambing here is on an industrial scale

and John's huge sheds are now full of pregnant ewes.

Up to 300 lambs will be born every day.

But every year, John can lose over 15% of his lamb crop.

This morning, there's one ewe whose progress

John is particularly worried about.

Rotten. So these lambs are rotten. Most likely dead.

Don't know why, one of these things.

This isn't going to smell very good.

But...

..all we got to do now is get them out of there...

..because it's bad for the ewe

to have them in there, obviously.

If a lamb dies inside the womb, it can cause a fatal

infection for the mother, so John must act quickly.

The problem is if the belly is swollen behind it,

I won't get this out here.

LAMB BLEATS

John's suspicion is confirmed.

Unfortunately, the first lamb is dead.

LAMB BLEATS

This lamb's alive.

I don't know how long it will be alive for.

It never ceases to amaze me, how this lamb can be in there next to

that rotten lamb and it's alive at the moment so...

Sometimes a live lamb in a situation like this will give...

LAMB BLEATS

..the ewe the encouragement she needs to

get up and try and live.

It's not a great result having dead lambs...

SHEEP BLEAT

..but on the plus side, you've got one live one and that's what

keeps you going, that's what gives you a bit of a boost.

At Martin Irvine's farm, spring

means starting at the very

beginning of the life cycle.

Today, he plans to collect some

semen from his stock bull, Powerful Irish.

Come here.

This strong, well muscled animal has excellent and valuable genes

and will hopefully father many future generations of calves.

Good boy. Stop, stop, stop, stop.

Oi.

For this rather specialised procedure,

Martin calls on the help of bull breeding consultant David Fleming.

Yeah, you need a good sense of humour for this job, I think.

And David, he's got a good sense of humour.

Broad shoulders and thick skin, I tell you, it goes a long way!

HE CHUCKLES

Martin's haltered up a heifer, Eyecandy,

to try and tease Irish into mating, but will she live up to her name?

If she does, it's up to David to intervene

and collect the semen sample using an artificial vagina.

Between the time the bull approaches the heifer

and he serves the heifer, naturally it's seconds, there's no

foreplay, there's no foreplay at all for the bull, he's quick,

so David's got to be extra quick to intervene

to trick him and get the sample.

It's not a job for the faint-hearted.

Irish weighs close to one tonne

and has been kept away from the ladies for five weeks.

Martin's hoping it will have put him in a romantic frame of mind.

David's on high alert.

That's why we have the two bales here, just adds safety and security

so as the cow can't move around too much.

That's it, good boy, good boy.

Right, Martin, pull him down.

-Down, man. Down you come.

-Good boy.

That's a boy.

That's fine, we'll have a look at that.

That's my boy. That's my boy.

The semen sample is off for analysis.

What Eyecandy makes of it all is anyone's guess.

This measures the sperm count.

That's got a saline solution in there and there's a light

goes through and obviously the thicker the semen is,

then the better quality is, like, you know.

Irish's semen goes through several test processes.

Movement and density are measured which will add up to give

a quality rating.

Yeah, that's good.

That's a four on motility on a scale of zero to five.

And it's five, five mil,

so it's a fair old amount he's

given for such a youngster, but he's a good producing bull,

which is ideally what you want.

Yeah, I'm happy with that.

Ken, Irish you could see he was wound up, he was in the mood,

he knew exactly what was going on and he knew what was happening,

So we just took a bit of time to tease him

and cool him down a bit cos he was a bit too excited at the start.

And then, good on David for doing what he did,

because you have to be quick, really quick there,

so it's a good sample, so we're happy, like.

Spring has definitely sprung as far as Irish is concerned.

David and Martin manage to harvest another three

samples before standing the young bull down.

Good boy, that's it. That's it.

The semen will be sent to a lab where it's frozen

and stored in small units called straws.

After a few sums by David, Martin can see how much

was harvested from Irish today.

So we did four jumps today, normally we'll do three jumps

but the third jump was quite good, so we went and tried a fourth jump

and it looks like it was worth it.

It was definitely worth it, in fact.

THEY LAUGH

So the first jump, 240 straws,

second jump, 170 straws,

third jump, 195 straws,

and the fourth jump 220 straws, so delighted, really delighted.

Martin has ended up with a bumper crop of over 12 hundred straws.

As each can sell for £25, Irish's efforts this

afternoon could bring in over £30,000.

It's a lucrative income,

and a way of future-proofing the bloodline of his pedigree herd.

At John Scott's farm, his pedigree herd is about to get a new addition.

Spring is also a busy calving time for him

and tonight, he's keeping an eye on one of his pedigree shorthorns.

She's in labour.

So we've just got a two-year-old heifer calving at the moment.

She has been calving probably three hours now.

I'm just a wee bit concerned she's, she's one of our smaller

heifers so we're just going to take her in and examine things.

I suspect we are going to have to help her give birth to the calf.

With the heifer safely secured, John examines her to gauge how

likely it is for her to give birth unaided.

Her pelvis is too narrow to get that calf out of there.

I'm going to phone the vet for assistance.

It's just before 12.30 when the vet arrives.

Have you been to bed yet?

Not yet.

Barcelona-born vet Paco Morera has been

practising in Scotland for 15 years.

Is it worth having a check? What do you think?

I think you should have a check, yes.

The heifer has been struggling in labour now for over four hours.

First, Paco wants to assess the calf.

I'm just trying to check if it's still alive.

I'll be disappointed if it's not.

She's not been going, 8 o'clock start?

Yeah, still alive.

We'll open the side

and it will, we will have more chances of having an alive both.

Paco decides on a Caesarean.

It's a major operation but he does at least 30 a year.

A live calf, very narrow pelvis,

small heifer... We could try,

but if we try, you know, just to get it out through the back

and it gets stuck at the pelvis,

we are likely to damage the heifer and maybe lose the calf.

The heifer is able to stand throughout

with just her side anesthetised.

Whoa, lass, whoa, lass.

A straightforward Caesarean should take about an hour to perform.

-You ready?

-I'm ready.

Paco has to cut through several layers of muscle

and then the womb wall to reach the calf.

Stop it, lass, come on.

There's a lot at stake.

This heifer here's probably worth something in the region of

£2,500 to £3,000.

Don't like putting any pressure on Paco when he is doing the job but...

HE CHUCKLES

20 minutes into the operation, Paco hits a problem.

He's trying to get hold of the calf...

..but the calf has other ideas.

Just moving away from me, the calf.

I suspect it's a pretty big calf.

Paco needs to get the calf into position

so he can pull it out without tearing the womb.

Because of its size, he has very little room to manoeuvre.

It's going to be difficult even with that, OK?

At last Paco gets hold of a foot.

Yeah, is that good? Help?

With such a large calf packed into such a tiny space,

it takes the strength of three men to winch it out.

Keep going. Keep going.

Work on the calf, I'll deal with the mother.

John moves in quickly to make sure it's breathing.

I'm just making sure the calf's OK.

I think it's, it's fine

but that is far too big a calf

for a heifer, it's a heifer calf.

It's fine. We're happy with that, it's living.

Yeah, it's just huge, though.

Yeah, it would have never come out the other end.

You know, there's no doubt that the right decision was made

to give Paco a shout.

Cos if we'd try to calve that ourselves,

that would have ended in disaster.

The calf is a healthy female.

Now Paco and John must focus on her mother.

Now we probably have about half an hour,

40 minutes of checking stitching, you know,

making sure that we do everything first, to make sure that she's OK.

But second, if we can, to make sure that she can carry on having calves.

The calf at the moment is fine, it's just that looking around,

surveying the world that it's just arrived into.

Before too long it will be thinking about trying to get up

and looking for a suck from Mum.

It's been a long operation but it's gone well.

Euch. The joys of being a vet, eh?

-How lovely.

-Good, thanks, Paco.

-Take care.

-Yeah.

-OK. See you, bye.

-Cheers. Yeah.

It's the middle of spring but in the north-east of Scotland,

an unseasonable blast of wintry weather arrives at the worst

possible time for the Irvines.

It's just over five months since they tupped their sheep

and they are now in the middle of lambing.

Ten days into lambing

and the weather's decided to go wrong for us, really.

The lambs are born in the shed,

and would usually be put out into the fields within a few days.

But the weather's too cold for them to survive outside,

so Mel and Martin must keep them indoors and monitor them all.

If I see any lambs with empty bellies or hunched up,

they're not looking well, obviously they've not found their mum

so I'll have to pair them up again or pen them.

SHEEP BAA

We'll just take a walk through them and see how things are.

Martin finds a lamb that needs help.

Number 119 was born in the middle of the night,

but his mother was not producing enough milk to feed him.

Now he is critically weak.

This is one of the twins,

and see this hyper extending,

he's throwing his head back,

he's an empty belly.

It doesn't look good so what I'll do is go fill his belly with milk,

put him under a heat lamp.

He doesn't look like a happy camper.

The lamb is severely dehydrated.

Martin takes him straight to the pet pen where weak or rejected lambs

can be handfed and more closely watched.

Morning.

Mel and Martin have been lambing now for ten days and ten nights,

snatching sleep in the caravan whenever they can.

The huge workload is taking its toll.

I can't function with...

..not enough sleep.

Mel is up to handfeed 119.

We'll give it a bellyful of milk, we'll give it a chance.

If it won't survive with a belly full of milk

and a heat up, then there's something wrong with it.

If it doesn't survive that, it will die pretty quick, really.

The lamb is too weak to suck from

the bottle so Mel has to pass a tube

down his throat so she can syringe

milk directly into his stomach.

With the way that lamb's looking,

I give it about a 20% chance of living the rest of the day.

If it's going to come round, it'll come round in the next

couple of hours, if not, it'll just deteriorate and get worse.

119 is in such a bad way,

Mel decides to keep a closer eye on him.

The little pet lambs are all crowded round the heat lamp,

so to give this one a better chance,

I'm just going to keep him in the caravan,

which is nice and warm, wrap him in a towel...

..keep him warm for a wee while so he doesn't get piled up on.

Almost half of lamb deaths happen within 48 hours of birth,

so the next few hours are critical.

Three hours later, Mel checks up on 119.

Look at my baby!

He's alive!

LAMB BLEATS

The little lamb has made it.

Now he can join his twin, also 119.

Summer arrives at last.

It's a time of year that many of the farmers look forward to.

Long days, better weather, grass growing...

..and the chance for animals to graze freely outside.

Summer's finally here and I love it.

I can finally get out of my wellies and waterproofs.

The grass is lush and green. Everything is thriving,

calves, sheep, lambs.

And for the farmer it is the best time of year because

we get outside and enjoy the sun.

When the weather's right, farming's a great job and I enjoy it.

There is a freedom to the long days of summer, when you can

carry on working outside till midnight, if you choose.

Today, hill farmers Sybil and George are welcoming some of their cows

and new calves back to the farm.

Wee baby calves are absolutely beautiful.

They run and play and skip as soon as they're, as they're able

and that's, that's fantastic.

Sent away in November,

the mothers have spent the winter

months under cover in the Lowlands.

You're OK, girls.

Just steady, steady, steady, steady, steady.

They're still feeling a bit spooky having come home

from their winter shed quarters to the great outdoors.

The cattle's returning was delayed by about three weeks this year.

Because the weather was so cold and wet,

there was absolutely no grass here to bring them home to.

You're OK, girls.

It's important just to let them settle down, it's a huge transition,

coming out of a shed and a big journey on a lorry,

so, you know, we have to keep a careful eye on them

for that first week or two, really, when they first come home.

Many of the cows calved while they were away.

For them probably this year,

it was very much a good idea that they calved, most of them

calved away from home, in a sheltered shed rather than being

outside during the month of May,

which was so exceptionally cold and wet here.

There's a wee calf there with his mum.

With such young calves now a part of the herd,

Sybil and George are being cautious.

Will you let me come close to you? Hello, Squeaky!

No?

You've just got to be wary of them, especially when just a wee

baby born can, can stir the maternal instinct of the other cows.

It's great to see them home, really, especially when the weather is

reasonable like it is today and it's got a bit milder, and well,

the calves are just the next generation

and they play and fight and have fun,

just like any youngster, and it's great to watch them.

Hello.

Will you come and speak?

I'll never forget how lucky I am to have the opportunity to farm,

it's something that I love.

Nature is absolutely incredible and to be involved with it

and be as close to it as I am, with my work on the farm in this

type of environment, I think I'm extremely lucky.

At the Irvine's family farm in the north-east of Scotland,

Martin can also let his Limousin cows

and calves out of the sheds, into the fields.

Such a nice feeling getting them outside.

This is official, when the cows go outside, to us,

that's summer beginning, really.

Are you all right, girls?

COWS MOO

They'll enjoy this. The 25th of October they came inside,

and they've been inside since then every day through the winter,

getting fed, pretty much the same ration, same company.

So when you let them out, the legs will be in the air,

the tails will be up in the air and they'll be off.

It must be a good feeling for them,

it must be a good feeling getting outside in the field again.

The sun's out and it's quite warm so, yeah, about time.

Jumbo is now six months old.

He and his fellow calves have never been outside before.

So Jumbo, he's in here.

Jaya, Jurassic, Juventus, what they need is to get outside

and get exercise and stretch their legs and eat grass, pretty much.

Come on, then, come on, then!

Go on.

Go on.

Come on, guys.

So that's Jumbo, that's his batch out,

so that's all the back end calfers out.

That'll be the most exercise they've had their whole lives.

They'll run about for a couple of hours,

it'll be a new experience for them, freedom.

Hopefully, this summer they'll just

thrive on and mushroom and just keep growing, that's what you want.

Now it's time for the pregnant heifers,

carrying the next generation of calves.

That feeling there, for them must be a great feeling.

Just getting back out onto the grass again and away,

stretching their legs.

They'll run about for about half an hour, just playing, to be honest.

They'll just run about as a group,

smelling everything, seeing everything.

Big, strong, sweet.

This is like the elite pretty much, this is our best,

this is the cream of our crop in front of us here.

This is our future.

And to me it's looking good.

Farming is just in you.

And you don't do it for money, you do it because you enjoy it.

I love it. There's nothing like,

nothing like a day on the hills or the moors with your dogs.

I don't know why I love pigs.

It's hard to beat seeing a pile of lambs,

maybe 50 lambs racing up and down a fence line and really having fun.

That's probably the best sign of spring for me.

We live and work in a fabulous part of the world.

Things that we can see and experience are just unique.

Will, good lad. Come on, Will!

We're not going to get rich farming on this type of land,

but the lifestyle is good.

If you're a farmer, it's bred into you,

you don't want to do anything else, it's what you love doing.

She's just perfect, happy with that.

Farming life, it changes every day.

Every season there's something different.

It's not a job, it's a way of life.