KIRSTEN MCDONALD
CHILDREN'S BOOK AUTHOR
Four Dog Farm
Penny lifted her head, thumped her tail, and gave a soft whine.
“Lilly had triplets early this morning,” Poppa said hugging a small bundle wrapped in feed sacks. “None of the other ewes have lambed, so I can’t foster out this one.”
As I reached for the bundle, Poppa added, “Do what you can, Audrey, but don’t go losing your heart to this one ‘cause she’s not likely to see the day through.”
Momma and I dried off the tiny lamb, and Penny helped by licking the lamb’s face and ears.
“She’s barely breathing,” I whispered as Momma stood up to get some milk.
“Just keep her warm and calm, Audrey,” was all Momma replied.
I snuggled the lamb to my body, and Penny curled up against the lamb’s other side. Through my nightgown, I could feel the tap-tap-tap of her newborn’s heart.
Momma came back with a mixture of cow’s milk, egg, and sugar. I spread it on the lamb’s lips, but she just lay there. I dipped my finger in the milk again and gently poked my finger into her tiny mouth. I smiled up at Momma when I felt the lamb’s tongue press against my finger.
Five fingers of milk later, the lamb’s eyelids fluttered, and she gave a soft bleat.
Momma filled one of my doll bottles with the milk mixture, and I held it to the lamb’s mouth. Uncertainly she nipped at the bottle. The milk dribbled into her mouth and onto her lips. She blinked several times and then began to suck hungrily.
I held the bottle with one hand and rubbed her tiny back with the other. Penny did her part by nuzzling the lamb’s spindly legs. When the bottle was empty, the lamb rolled upright, tucked her legs, and leaned against Penny.
“Remember what your Poppa told you,” Momma said as I stroked the lamb.
But it was too late. I could feel my heart reaching out to the lamb just as surely as the grass reaches toward the sun.
All that morning, I stayed with the lamb -- feeding her and singing soft lullabies.
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