Pretty young things

With the birth of the lambs came the time of fostering off the orphans. Some were fostered onto mothers who had lost their lambs - and some were adopted by human "mothers" who warmed and bottle fed and nursed the little stuffed toy-like lambies until they became "pet sheep". These sheep usually lived a life of pampered leisure - at least until market time in September. That is how Wilf and Wendy acquired their little flock - which lived to see their "golden years" and I'm sure died of old age.

Our little 2 year old neighbor, Christopher, one of the more beautiful children I'd known (with his big dark eyes and blond hair) had three orphan lambs that year. One he named "Little Jack", after the big American next door, who was beginning to have what was to his father an unfortunate influence on Christopher's vocabulary.

Anyway, Christopher liked to visit us and would often come over the fence to sit in our kitchen and have a glass of lemonade or just water - with (wonder of wonders) ice cubes (no one there put ice in drinks - only us odd Americans). One warm sunny morning I came down to start breakfast and found little Christopher already in the kitchen - dressed only in his little wellie boots. I figured I'd better call his mom since to get home he'd have to crawl back over our rock and wire fence - and having negotiated it once without damage - I figured he'd better not tempt fate by trying it again.