Yesterday Dad staggered into the kitchen after feeding the chickens and he was as white as a sheet, which, considering he is half Indian, was an achievement.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“We just got new stock…”
“Huh?” I was completely confused but he led us all outside, Mum, Me and my sister’s kids, who we were babysitting at the time.
There in the field were our two sheep and another…
I know what you are thinking – that a sheep had pushed its way through our fence and we have got to go catch it and send it back.
It is the weather’s fault. Every year we get two lambs that we keep until they are just under a year old. They are then slaughtered and we have a freezer full of meat. This year the field was muddy and the weather too warm. The sheep weren’t killed as we don’t have a fridge big enough to hang two adult sized sheep in. We waited.
We should have known.
You see our two lambs were a ‘barren’ ewe and a ram.
Our ewe is not so barren. Say hello to Lucky.
Lucky was born during the night and is a lovely black lamb. The mum is the black Welsh mountain and dad is the white Welsh mountain.
I suppose calling the lamb Lucky is bad because the lamb will have to go for slaughter once he is big enough, but his parents have been given a complete stay of execution. We have decided to keep them. They work as a unit to protect and look after little Lucky. And, as we say in our family, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.
So our herd of two is going to stay and produce lambs for us. I’m just completely glad that our ewe was able to take care of it all herself. Because we hadn’t got a clue how to help if anything had gone wrong. I mean we have people we can call, but this is our first lamb to be born on the land.
And Lucky is fine. The three of them are currently in one of the field shelters with a deep bed of straw.
And Dad is no longer shocked at the new arrival.