Timeless Tuesday: Tracy had a Little Lamb

On my fifth birthday, my brother came home with a little black lamb. She had a big red bow around her neck. I named her Sally and fed her from a baby bottle.



The neighbors enjoyed driving by our house. My other brother had a Blue Healer at that time. My sister had a Saint Bernard. I think we had a smaller dog, too. The dogs would run the ditch along the front of our house as cars would pass and my lamb would bound along right after them... bounce, bounce, bounce.

Sally liked to drink right out of the faucet at the house, and she took many meals right alongside the dogs. She stayed in the barn at night, but spent her days roaming the farm with the kids.



I remember one time when my dad had this huge pile of sand delivered. I think we were pouring concrete for a new garage he was building. Sally was full grown by then. I certainly could no longer pick her up and carry her around in my arms like a baby. My cousins and I thought that mountain of sand was a great place to play. Sally thought so, too. In fact, she decided that she would be "king of the mountain" and spent the entire afternoon butting us off of it. All you had to do was run to the top of the sand pile and stand there and that old sheep would come push you off. There were four of us, of course, and only one of her, so she had to work really hard to keep us off the top of that sandpile. As she chased one of us down one side, two more would run up the other side.

Sally was a great pet, but sadly, her life came to a tragic end. I was shielded from the full horror of the story, but I know it had something to do with roaming dogs.



Eventually we had lots of sheep. I showed market lambs in 4-H for six or seven years. My favorite time was lambing season in the spring... those little black animals on long, spindly legs. They liked ears. Every lamb I've ever been near, would push its nose right up to my ear and sniff and nuzzle. There's nothing cuter than a baby lamb.