It's up! Complete with a video of The Lamb Who Lived taking his first steps right into a wall.
Apparently I missed some spam!!! Blast. Time flies when you're knee deep in sheep sh*t. A post about the first mostly disastrous batch of lambs will go up on Pandaloonery once Lady Friend affixes pictures to it for me, which she is doing right now. And then we are off to the pasture for the second time today to bottle-feed a little black lamb named Flopsy. One of his ears won't stand up and he can't figure out where food comes from no matter how many times it is explained to him. So Flopsy needs his bottle.
Ack, the cuuuuuute. It hurts!
I have the simplest tastes. I am always satisfied with the best.
I do not often field compliments on my legs, but Flopsy the Lamb offers accolades aplenty. For if he sniffs, snuffles, nuzzles, and rams his hard little head into them, a bottle full of Lamb-Lac descends from the sky to feed him.
His sister apparently siphoned away all of his IQ points in the womb, for he is a terribly stupid (and terribly cute) lamb with a broken ear, triple the voice volume of an average newborn sheepie, and thinks that milk comes from his mother's rear end. She keeps patiently correcting him and he keeps not getting it and growing increasingly more hysterical from hunger, so the bottle it is.