64 CommentsShare: |
Subscribe
It’s a dog’s life for our little bottle lamb, Annabelle.
She thinks she is a dog.
They’re not so sure, but they let her hang with them anyway. Which is a good thing, because somebody has to hang with her. All the time. The Giant Puppy has been on lamb-sitting duty ever since Annabelle arrived, spending an undue amount of time on the porch to keep the baby company. When Coco leaves the porch for business, I have to drag Dookie-the-farm-shih-tsu off his blankie in the house and outside to the porch because Annabelle can’t stand to be alone. She cries. And cries. And you know we can’t have that.
She comes inside for her bottle several times a day.
I bring her inside to drink her bottle because otherwise Coco tries to drink it.
She’s also eating a little bit of grain every day.
I take everybody with me when I go down to do chores.
Annabelle loves to do chores. She sticks right by my side.
We feed the sheep.
And the goats.
Nutmeg and Honey are keeping Clover’s spirit alive.
And eating all her cookies.
Annabelle cries when I go inside the chicken house for a few seconds to pick up eggs.
She’s always so happy when I show back up.
I’m not sure how long I’ll keep her on the porch with the dogs. She has no mama to protect her, so I don’t want to put her in with the big sheep until she’s big enough to whoop ‘em. She thinks I’m her mama. She even calls me maaa-maaa! I call her Annabelley, my little sweetie baby pudding pie. I feed her and rock her and rub her head cuz she likes that.
And if loving her is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.
