Stu

Stu was the only lamb to survive January's lambing debacle. His granny had just produced twins which meant that we had five sheep on a plot too small for that number. For additional grazing we allowed them into parcels of land that had not been designated for sheep, where they did enormous damage. We decided that was it, no more lambs, no more sheep. The slaughtering had to be staggered for logistical reasons. One lamb was given to a taverna for Easter and another lamb along with her mother were slaughtered a little while later and put into our freezer. We had planned to keep Stu and his mum around for another year or so. Stu would have to be castrated of course but then he would be able to live safely alongside his mother for as many years as we cared to keep them.

Spouseman's cancer diagnosis rather upset the plans and we took our eye off the ball(s) at just the wrong moment. By the time we booked Kon to come and castrate Stu it was too late and he would have to remain intact, and that would mean that whatever happened, more lambs would be arriving. As it turned out, Spouseman's treatment on the mainland was prolonged and so Kon kindly took Stu and his mum off our hands for the duration. This at least meant that it was an older male that serviced Stu's mum and not Stu himself.

But when they returned Stu was a young testosterone-filled male and not the little lamb I had been so fond of before. He was frisky and intimidating and I found I didn't dare go into his paddock without brandishing a sturdy stick.

He has sweetly kept his mum company since the day he was born, but she has new company now and does not need a teenager bulling around. Neither do we. It will be a very sad day tomorrow. I am more attached to Stu than to any other sheep I have known, but we cannot keep him alive any longer, handsome though he may be. I will be so glad when our livestock days are over.