Lambing (with puns).

The two lambs nursed by Jo died as I feared after 36 hours. They were simply too premature to survive. We’ve had better luck resuscitating one pedigree Zwartbles we scooped off the field, its tongue already cold, although it felt warm to my frozen finger when I discovered it with Fabian Grennelle, apprentice shepherd. The ewe chose the stronger twin and headed off. So, for the past two nights we’ve had Damon Allbaa-n staying. I came down this morning to find Kim sitting on the floor in the drying room feeding it with a bottle. The rest of the day it spent largely at the kitchen table on Jo’s lap. I’ve never heard a lamb purr before. By this evening, Colin had had enough and Damon Allbaa-n went back to the barn where he was successfully fostered by an ovine. Are you still wondering about the name? Well he lives in a house, in a very big house in the country . . .

Here’s a picture of Colin and Ivor with Damon’s twin brother before he was pushed out to roam the snowy fields with his maa.