A new lamb arrived at Poplar Spring this week. She had been raised by people who apparently bred expensive specialty sheep, or something along those lines. Her mother was the grand champion of something or other, and this beautiful little girl lamb was worth quite a chunk of change, I’m told.
But not worth, as it happens, any care or consideration. At least not by the people who bought her and saw her entire worth in the form of profits and loss.
Lola has the sweetest little face you’ve ever seen, and when her foot got infected the people “caring” for her neglected to take her to the vet in a timely manner. Three weeks later, when they finally did, it was too late. At least, too late for Lola’s leg. The infection had entered the bone, and there was nothing that could be done to save the leg.
Her then-owners, having done the absolutely nothing they were prepared to do, left her at the vet’s, having not even the first care what would happen to her at that point. The vet was expected to put her down, but since she was seven weeks old (yes, the “owners” failed that soon), they really didn’t want to. They figured she could live pretty well with just three legs, and so they contacted Poplar Spring, who agreed to take her.
She gets around really well at the moment. She even runs, Terry tells me, and I can well believe it. She has taken to her three legged state with apparent ease, showing only occassional and momentary awkwardness.
But she will reach about 200 lbs. I worry for her, as of course do Terry and Dave. It is clear that she will do just fine while small, however, and whatever life she has in front of her, as a three legged sheep who will grow to be huge, it will be as good as it gets at Poplar Spring.
For now, she runs and she is spoiled and her life is wonderful. We will sing to her and feed her alfalfa. And when she gets older, she’ll likely return the favor by head-butting us, as Clover and Hickory are wont to do.