Here he is!
This handsome, slightly round, fellow is my baby. He’s 5 years old and has a couple of acres to himself. I got Wally when he was a few day old and I hand raised him. It was seriously the best and most rewarding time in my life. I wasn’t very happy at the time, and to have a reason to get out of bed, even though it was the middle of winter and absolutely freezing, was fantastic. It never felt a chore to make his bottle and run out at 6am for his morning feed.
He did come to me in a sad way though. I was first given a female lamb by a local farmer. Her mother had died and he couldn’t look after her. I had her for less than a week. She had a huge lump on her chest, I tried to get her help but was just told it was from an injection she’d had. But it got bigger and bigger and she died in the night, at the foot of my bed. I think it must have been a snake bite or something. Her name was Jolly and I still cry when I think of her.
When the farmer found out how upset I was he delivered Wally to my door. I didn’t find out until later that he was a twin and the farmer had taken him from his mother for me. But in the long term it’s been a lot better for him! He got to keep his tail and, more importantly, he didn’t become a spring lamb for someones table.
Having Wally completely reinforced my vegetarianism. He’s smart(ish), he’s sweet, he’s affectionate, he’s a complete dork and he loves it when you rub the spots where his horns would have grown if we had of let him be a ram. He used to follow me everywhere, and cry when I wasn’t there. And now he supplies my crafty mum with wool to spin every year!