I don’t know if it is a gift. I am sure my husband would say it is a weakness.
I can’t help falling for animals.
Yes we live on a farm and despite once being vegetarian, I do accept that the business we are in is killing for food and I accept that. It puts a roof over our heads and I knew it when we met.
For this reason, I don’t name cows. After our fox attacks, I also do not name chickens.
There is one exception to the farm animal naming rule.
We bottle fed at least 40 lambs this year because either their mother had triplets or died or my husband thought they wouldn’t make it in the field.
Minty was one of these.
He was born on Easter Sunday with his adopted sister Rosemary-the only two I named because there ended up being so many, even I couldn’t distinguish one from the other.
Apart from Minty.
He was tiny and never fully caught up with his brothers, sisters and cousins.
I can’t tell you how lovely he is.
He is so tame. If I shout him from the gate, he frolics over. He acts like a daft dog (apart from the time he mounted me when I was collecting eggs!!)
My husband promised me we could keep him as a pet. He has since admitted this is largely due to the fact he thought he wouldn’t make it.
And I admit, due to the soft spot I had for him, I always did give him more milk when we were bottle feeding. Even when he was turned out in the field I would sneak out with a bit of warm milk in one of my daughter’s old bottles.
He lives with chickens and the rams when they are not ‘servicing’ the lady sheep.
As this was our first lambing living on the actual farm, I do wonder if we will end up with a Minty every year.
One thing is for certain though, he will definitely never be going for lamb chops.