Last spring, Chloe had a lamb.  But she had a tough labor and some sheepy form of post-partum depression and she didn’t want anything to do with her baby, so I raised it.  Solly still thinks he’s my lamb.  Chloe still thinks he’s my lamb too, he’s certainly nothing to do with her.

This is a picture of Solly.  He is unfocused because he already thought I was mommy, and was heading toward me.

This morning, Chloe had a lamb.  He is the spitting image of Solly.  This is the new lamb:

He is in focus, because he does not care about me, he is safe with his mommy Chloe, who loves him.  This time around, Chloe has gone the other way.  She adores her lamb.  Right now, he is snuggled up in a corner trying to sleep, but probably he can’t sleep because Chloe is standing over him nickering softly to make sure he knows she is there.

The other, inferior sheep are not allowed near the lamb.  Nobody is allowed near the lamb except me, and that only with close supervision.  The lamb wanted to play with Hera (he probably can’t focus very well yet, she’s round and wooly and she was bouncing in a way that looked like fun), and Hera was briefly thrilled to find a sheep smaller than herself.  Then Chloe chased her away.

The new lamb hasn’t got a name yet.  He hasn’t had much chance to show off his personality or any special traits, I’m waiting to see what develops.  Chloe thinks he should be named “Prince Delightful” or “Dashing the WonderLamb”, but Chloe tried to tell me he was the smartest lamb ever birthed because he figured out how to pee on his own, so I suspect her judgment is a bit skewed right now.

Although you know, “Dashing the Wonderlamb” is kind of catchy…