The lost sheep

The flock is back and I always feel responsible for the lambs, some of whom can be very foolish. For the last two days two lambs have been on the wrong side of the fence  - the noise has been very loud indeed - but there were arrangements. The two ewes were nonchalant and sat close to the fence and the lambs frolicked and called on the other side and when they got tired, they nestled down next to their mums, not too much perturbed by the fence between them. K the farmer arrived  and moved them all down to the lower field, then rounded up the lost sheep and peace has been resumed. 
When I was confirmed in Chelmsford Cathedral, after a very brief spell of religiosity, the vicar referred to me as his lost sheep. We were late, my mother having demanded my father turn back the car as she remembered she hadn't locked the dog out of the kitchen where the confirmation feast was laid out! I think he'd only had a nibble. The vicar was as unamused as I was.