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Annabelle is eating regular sheep feed and hay now, but oh how she loves her bottle. She gets one in the morning before she goes down to the yard and one at night before she goes to bed on her blankie on the porch. She sees me coming, nearly tackles me for it, bracing her back legs for the all-out assault on her senses of the wonderment of its milky goodness.
The milky drool starts up right away.
The milk! It’s so delicious!
She is beside herself, bedazzled by the bottle, uncaring of her table manners.
And I’m in love with her thick, rich, foamy milk mouth.
I could gaze upon her milk mouth all day long.
Conundrum: Why does Annabelle have a thick, rich, foamy milk mouth at all when I’ve been feeding her bottles that contain nothing but water ever since her sheep milk replacer ran out? Why doesn’t she care at all that it’s just water? Why am I so in love with this lamb? Why is she still sleeping on my porch, and why does she think she’s a dog? Where is my mixer and my spare car key?
So many mysteries, so little time.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn | Permalink
