The Cook's Corner: Never say never

For several years I have raised bum lambs for a couple of friends who didn’t have the time to do it themselves. It was two years ago when I got my last one, and I sadly lost it after a hard-fought battle with a digestive disease. I decided then that I wasn’t going to raise bums anymore. In fact, one of the guys stopped raising regular sheep, opting instead for a hair sheep that borders on being a wild sheep. They actually like to raise them for the rams, to release on hunting ranches in Texas for trophy hunting. Given the chance, this particular breed is totally wild. The other guy sadly passed away last winter, so his beautiful Rambouillet sheep are probably gone from this area. The wool his sheep produced was high quality and so sought after that I am sure there were plenty of ranches hoping for some of his genetics.
So I had stood firm, I was not raising bums anymore. These guys didn’t need me to do theirs, so I had no guilt in hanging up my bottle, putting away the playpen, tearing down the bum pen outside and calling it quits.
But…
Last week a neighbor called and asked if I knew anyone raising bums. Boy, that stirred my nurturing heart, and then when he told me the mom had died in childbirth unable to pass the second lamb, well, that did it. I told him to bring it up. I still had one bottle, I still had the playpen, and now our lives are enriched by one of the cutest, most mischievous, cuddle-loving, little “wild” sheep.
She is a Painted Desert sheep, coal black except for a big splash of white on her forehead. Learning to raise one of these sheep that borders on being feral, if not downright wild, has been a learning curve. She acts nothing like a domestic sheep, nor does she act like a goat, although she does look somewhat like one. Hair sheep don’t have wool as we are used to seeing; instead, they have a coat very much like a deer or a goat. They get a fine wool underneath the hair in the winter and then shed that in the spring.
The first three days she actually acted like a deer fawn. She would lay in her pen with her head out straight and move nothing but her eyes. She would eat, but not willingly, and she loved to be cuddled, again, with her head stretched out and not moving a muscle. She was scared and reacting exactly like a wild sheep would act. In danger, be still. After those first anxious days though, she started to accept me as “mom” and now she is my little shadow.
I take her out of the pen while I am working in the house to run and play. Yesterday I was doing laundry and she decided the pile of dirty jeans and work clothes was her mountain. She jumped on it, over it, tripped, fell and did it all over again. It was her personal little mountain. And she can’t just hop straight down the two short stairs going into the back porch; she jumps about a foot in the air and twists like a bucking bull on each step. She is certainly bringing some joy to our house.
And the cats? Well, Lucy dislikes her, but then Lucy, the geriatric cat, dislikes everything and everybody except me when I cuddle her or feed her. Creamsicle stays completely away, and Tonton? He was cuddled up with the lamb on the rug by the wood stove last night.
So my life has been taken over by a bum lamb again, and I am so happy it has.

The Best and Easiest Hot Apple Cider
1 gallon cider
1 package hot cinnamon candies (Red Hots)
Mix candies into apple cider in a large saucepan, crock-pot or coffee urn. Heat and stir until candies are dissolved. Serve. Add a cinnamon stick for garnish if desired.