While we are never happy to find abandoned lambs at Struan Farm, we are always happy to have pet lambs, they are a joy. The sounds "Baaaa" and "Maaaa" bring an instant smile to my face.
"Woolly Joe's" mum died giving birth to two lambs. John M., the farmer who runs sheep on our property, found them and took the weaker one home; he gave us the second one to look after.
Woolly Joe's being bottle fed with colostrum and powdered lamb's milk. While initially John was afraid that he might not survive, and it's always a bit touch and go, he is now quite frisky. He spends nights swaddled in the relative luxury of John's Hut. John R. <hubby> rang me and put Woolly Joe on the phone to introduce himself the day he arrived. No confusing a baby lamb on the other end of the phone line, I would know that voice anywhere!
Clifford and John alternate as mum (I'm a distant third). Hopefully Woolly Joe won't get too confused since Clifford is the one who licks him. Of the two it's safe to say that John is the better role model.
Auntie Anna is lined up to look after him when John isn't at the farm. Given our logistics, it takes our extended whanau to raise a pet lamb at the moment, something we're happy to work out. Official mistresses are Ella and Millie, both aged 4.
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