The tiny body lay still
Except for occasional violent shaking
No newborn cry broke the silence
No insistent kicks of discovery
Should he remain with his mother
And be doomed to certain fate?
The other newborns exercised their lungs
And flung their tiny, warm bodies around in delight
But his cold, little body was bundled up
We took him home
Bottle raising lambs is the reality of homesteading
And one we don't necessarily enjoy
The children see the fun of little frolicking lambs
But it is a huge commitment
Like any newborn that isn't perfectly happy
They cry - a lot
They need to be nursed - regularly
They peepee - all over the carpets
Ultimately we always bring the orphaned lambs home
But is it fair?
It is not often that a mother sheep rejects her baby
But our young Ridgeback puppy has taken to playing
With the newborn lambs
Naturally the mothers do not approve
Only two days old this little Lambie sounded like her baby
But smelled like a predator
She rejected him
By the time we discovered his tiny body he was in shock
Having been too long without mama warmth or milk
Saving him was a huge battle
One I didn't think we would win
And yet life prevails
Now that insistent voice echoes
Day and night
Across the homestead
As strong as
The little legs which carry him frolicking
All over the gardens
Accompanied by the squeals of two legged children
Integrating him back into his flock
Once he is weaned will be difficult
But for today we warm another bottle of goats milk
And watch him bouncing with his adopted family
