Surrounded by Sheep in Labour

In our little croft house, we are surrounded by sheep, which belong to our neighbouring crofters.
It seems to be peak lambing time just  now. They do it a bit later here, up in the far North, having learnt over the years that snow and cold can arrive and kill early lambs. So the " tup " as he is called, is introduced to the ladies at a later time.
The tup in previous years was called Hamish and he came all the way from Achiltibuie, in a roofless trailer pulled by the crofters bright yellow railway van. The crofter works part time on the railway. We met them on the single track road which we then blocked, for at least 20  minutes, as the crofter showed off his merits to us - Hamish's merits not his
But -
Watching all these poor ladies around us giving birth, I feel as if I am in a giant maternity ward and it is unsettling.
As a doctor I have delivered a huge number of babies.
For a while I toyed with the idea of staying in O&G, as it was called.
It is a wonderful area to work as, there is no doubt, every birth is a miracle.
On the reverse side, a death is totally devastating.
But I couldn't take the lack of sleep. The hours were - all day for 5 days a week - plus every third  night and every third weekend.
A weekend would be from Friday morning until Monday evening - in theory it could be with no sleep at all.
One weekend, there were so many deliveries which required my input - the complicated ones -  I had so little sleep - that I arrived at a point where I did not care about anything anymore.  I was a very dangerous doctor and am so grateful that nothing awful happened. I was shocked that I could feel that way.
It made me decide against O&G as my career.
I have also, as a female Scottish pensioner,  had my own children and there is no doubt that the whole business is just as awful as it looks to an observer.
So here I am surrounded by all these labouring sheep.
They are so brave. They don't yell and scream like us. They walk round in a small circle, occasionally smelling the ground for some reason. They lie down and the upper rear leg jerks with agony during the contractions. Then - up they get again in another frantic circle. On the ground their eyes are closed, head turned up to the sky as if pleading to an inner God.
Some are quite quick but some seem to take ages. There is no pain relief - no gas and air - no epidural. Poor poor ladies
and
It is us that inflicts this on them
We put Hamish in there to have his evil way with them. We do it every year. So every year they have to go through this agony.
Why?
Because we like eating their babies.
Well - I do - I love lamb. It is my favourite meat
But
Oh Dear