A lamb appeared in our garden late yesterday afternoon. It was breathing heavily, and had sought rest between the two photinia robustas. The lamb's woolly neck was blood stained, and yet - he was standing firmly, - alerted to our presence (Emma and myself, with grand-baba Keiralea in my arms). Just then, a huge Rottweiler also appeared and paused in it's tracks, head tilted back staring at us almost arrogantly (he reminded me of a scene from "Cujo"). Then there was the Machinist's voice behind me "Get inside, Helen, both of you - get away from that dog..."
The Machinist called the farmer who owned the lamb, and alerted the neighbour who owned the dog. Although it wasn't one of the farmer's flock, he took it away....
You can imagine our delight and joy, then, when we learned that the lamb had been stitched, pain killers and antibiotics had been administered and the lamb is currently doing well in his "parents" shed.
We later heard that the owner of the dog had taken his pet to be euthanised