This afternoon The Bloke went up the paddock to feed the sheep (it’s still in drought here) and found that what he had previously thought was just a greedy old ewe was in fact pregnant and had given birth to a little live lamb, but had sadly died trying to birth the twin who was stillborn. All the other lambs in the flock had been born over three weeks ago…why this one was so late is still a mystery…but anyway…
We are now the proud parents of a brand new baby lamb who is still very toddly on her spindly little legs. She’d been attacked by some crows and has half of her bottom lip missing, and we’re worried that she might have been blinded in one eye: it’s still drizzling blood but we’re bathing it with a saline solution and hope for the best.
We got a recipe for colostrum from the Vet, she’s had a feed or two, and I’ve even got her peeing in the yard (with a bit of manual stimulation and a lamb-pee soaked hand to prove it!) 
As we speak, The Bloke is having a snooze in front of the blazing fire with little Daphne* cuddled up on his ample tummy, curled up like a cat and as sweet as can be. Newborn lambs are notoriously hard to rear, so we’re not expecting any miracles, but if she survives I’ll post some pics.
Wish Daphne luck.
*I’ve nicknamed her Daphne because my daphne bush is just about to burst into flower…I hope the same for this little girl.
