THE STORY OF BADGER, THE LAMB WITH ATTITUDE

Llinos, all of four years old,
Plodded in her welly boots
Around the field to check for ewes
In need of human help.
She found him lying in a ditch,
Motherless, alone and cold,
And very nearly dead.
‘He’s very weak’, her mother said,
‘He may not last the night’,
But Llinos wrapped him in her arms
And carried him around the farm
And tended him all day and fed
Her patient little drinks
Of warmed up milk until
He stood alone on wobbly legs
And bleated and his eyes grew bright.

Day by day he grew less weak
As Llinos carried him around,
Until he outgrew her little arms
And followed her around the farm
As might a dog, astounding
Dogs and ducks with most unsheep-like
Confidence and cheek.

In time Llinos went to school
And had to leave her pet behind.
Badger, bored, had to find
Other amusements; best of all
Was the simple fun of breaking rules.
He never stayed within a pound
With other sheep, but treated fences with disdain,
Leaping out with single bound
From any field to ascertain
Where something better might be found.
He chased the ducks and ate their food
And thumped the dogs, who soon eschewed
All thoughts of trying to restrain
A lamb so unruly and so rude.

Mother spied him for the umpteenth time
Upending buckets by the score
And shrieked ‘Oh please, no more!
It’s that lamb with attitude again.’
Badger, unconcerned about his latest crime,
Considered the approaching hour,
And departed, chewing garden flowers,
To wait for Llinos in the lane.
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