The Missing Lamb
It was a dark and stormy night in northern Illinois. I came home just before midnight one night in early March. The temperature was hovering just over the freezing point and rain was falling in those extra large droplets, soaking everything within seconds of exposure.
As my headlights panned across the mother/baby pasture dozens of little specks of eyes glowed faintly far out away from the barn. "Stupid Sheep", I thought, but I knew what had to be done; the babies couldn't stay out in this even if the mothers could.
I went in the house and put on my heavy leather (water resistant) coat and my hat. Summoning my two Tervuren companions, Timber and Skye, I set out for the far pasture. I had gone only a few steps when I realized my underwear was soaking wet and really cold.
I walked past the barn in the first pasture and then to the gate to the pasture where the mothers and babies had gathered. I called my herders over and sent them, one on a go-by, the other on an away-to-me. I didn't want them to miss anyone out there in the darkness.
I waited with my head down, water sluicing off the wide brim of my cowboy hat. Soon ewes and lambs started walking into my limited sight. Behind them faintly I could see the outline of two drenched Tervs working the other side of the herd. I turned and walked toward the barn.
At the barn door I stopped and watched as the sheep were pushed in. The last ewe to enter kept "baaing" constantly with a single baby in attendance. This was strange because I recognized her as a mother who used to have two. I looked back out into the wet darkness but I couldn't see more than twenty feet. I also couldn't see any Tervs so I started to trudge back out to the field.
When I reached the pasture gate Skye came up and stopped about six feet from me. She paused, shifted her feet back and forth for a moment and then turned and went back into the night. My curiosity overcame my wet jeans and I tramped after her.
Finally, at the far reach of the pasture, I saw something. Skye was approaching what appeared to be Timber. He seemed to be in a sitting position but he was all hunched over. His nose was almost touching the ground and even from a distance I could see a stream of water sluicing off his nose.
As I got closer I realized we'd found the missing lamb. Between Timber's front legs, nestled in the somewhat dry belly fur was a small white lamb. With Timber's furry body keeping the rain off the lamb seemed quite content.
Timber looked up as I approached and Skye looked on intently. I reached down, pulled the baby out of the nest and shoved it into the dubious shelter of my coat. Timber and Skye followed tenaciously and soon I was delivering the baby back to his baaing mother.
Although I have complete confidence in my companions they still amaze me.
