Misery, thy middle name is Lambie. It really is.
This is my poor not-so-little lad yesterday evening. He came into my shed while I was making a sheeple using his wool from the batt I carded for the outside.
Lambie was cold and unhappy so I draped a blanket over him so he could show me just how miserable he was.
He wouldn’t chew cud and he just stood with his head on the floor. ‘Bert was looking for him and kept banging on the door to get him. I pushed Lambie out once and watched ‘Bert go for him, chasing and butting him round and round so I opened my shed door again and Lambie raced back in. This was not good.
When I was going back to the house for the night, I put Lambie in a small overgrown ex-veg-garden and opened up the garden shed (his original house with wifi) and left him to it for the night. He instantly started eating and relaxing so I think he hadn’t eaten all day worrying about being constantly hassled and was subsequently very hungry. My poor boy. I hate seeing him like this – all clingy and depressed.
This morning, I gritted my teeth and took a meagre bucket of breakfast mixed with lots of TurmerAid (turmeric pellets) in the hope that it might help, ie just take the edge off everyone. Lambie was limping too.
After breakfast and a nervous start, they settled down.
They have come in tonight because it is pouring with rain. I filled up haynets and left them in together in their shed drying off. No one is being pushed out and chased. So let’s pray that’s the end of that because I worrry and even looked at the sleeping bags last night wondering whether I should sleep in Lambie’s shed with him to keep him company.