Nature runs by her own schedule. She won’t be put-off by the whims and worries of a young lamb. And thus it was that the mommy sheep, lily white with lamb still in tow, was ready to be offered up to the handsome ram.
The ram is quite a specimen, by any sheep standards. Nice coat, good mocha brown color, swingin’ balls, and a nice pair of curling horns. Good looking fellow, he. So our fair female was lead to his pen where the ram presides full-time over four other females. She was shy, naturally, and quite nervous. But most importantly to our tale, her four-month-old lamb, left behind in its mother’s pen, was wild. Baaaaaa. Maaaaaa. Naaaaa! Any mother would be unnerved.
So the task at hand, that is, the rendevous between handsome ram and ready-female, had a few kinks, not the least of which was the screaming youngster a few meters away. Solution? Bring the lamb into the pen with mommy. Little lamb at ease, mother calm and scent-marking (demonstrating her readiness, if not willingness), the ram was free to begin the courtship. His tongue was out. I tell you, his tongue was out. Talk about giving it all away up front. Round and round they went. Female squatting to scent-mark, male (tongue out) leading her, sniffing, rubbing, and trying to corral her into a corner.
Our little lamb, in the meantime, is right there at mom’s side . . . or rear. That’s when it happened. Mommy’s scent is dribbled (for lack of a better word) onto little lamb. Let the confusion begin. Monsieur ram can’t tell fertile mom from virginal daughter. To make things worse, the other four females were laughing. Seriously, they stood in the corner laughing. Whether they laughed at the ram or the lamb remains a topic of debate; but they were definitely laughing. Mom, on the other hand, was merely relieved to shirk her duty. Headache? . . . maybe.
This is where I got involved. I had to announce to my host family that the ram was after the young lamb. Time to rescue the lamb. No, I wasn’t sent into the pen. My job was merely to carry the crying lamb back to its original pen with the other youngsters whereupon . . . yes, you guessed it, all the young lambs escaped. So I was put in charge of herding three lambs. Most importantly, I was put in charge of running to close the courtyard gate lest the lambs escape into the village. Lambs are returned; and the young lamb forgets about mommy, so relieved is she that the attempted rape has ended. Thus, with the gorgeous hunk of ram in front of her and sans youngster . . . nature proceeds as nature always will. How long does it take to make a baby lamb? We can only speculate.
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