This little fellow stood beside the fence to the new house at Struan Farm a night ago and baa-ed, baa-ed, baa-ed. John assured me that he'd just lost his mum, and not to worry, they'd find one another. These things do happen. However, I found him alone in this same area yesterday afternoon. He was wobbly and looked like he hadn't eaten. So I scooped him up after listening to see if mum was around, got the bottle and lamb's milk back out, and gave him a feed. He's hanging out in the pet pen, sleeping in a big cardboard box that he seems to like.
His name is "Spud." I'm trying not to get too attached, particularly since ewes often reject lambs when they know something is wrong with them. He may not survive. But we'll look after him regardless.
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