Lydia: Life, Liberty and Survival

By Michael O'Neill

Join Lydia the lamb as she journeys through life, learning what it means to be different and that the truest friends love you just as you are.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike O'Neill
• Release date: Jun 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223073505

Michael O'Neill

Michael O'Neill lives on a farm in Sounthern Ontario with his wife and best friend Kerri. A father, farmer, plumber and, now, has turned to his passion as an avid writer. Watch for future works!

Book preview

Chapter 1

Lydia came into the world in a birthing hut in late March. There was snow on the ground and a cold wind blew, but she was the ninth daughter of Penelope Frall Digwall, purebred and pedigreed from here to there. Penelope knew her stuff and got Lydia up and nursing right away.

Lydia just wanted to curl up in the straw and nap. So she did. She woke up; nursed, sniffed Penelope all over, sniffed the hut all over, and then had a nap. Napping was a fine thing. The next time she woke up, another big beautiful ewe was licking another newborn lamb in another part of the birthing hut. Lydia went to sniff it and the big beautiful ewe butted her away. Penelope called her near and said That’s Ruth; she’s not ready to let you near her lamb, so you have to leave them alone for a while.

And so it was. Lydia soon wanted to stay awake longer and she sniffed at the feed in the manger and sometimes stepped outside. It was cold and the snow was marked with the tracks of other sheep and Lydia sniffed them and the droppings so she would remember who had been there. She tried to sort them out, but there were just too many. Soon another ewe came and gave birth, to twins. Lydia was friendly and soon the other lambs liked her, but the ewes were always wary.

The two-legs came around. One of them grabbed Lydia gently and dipped her umbilical cord in something that was red and it stung. Ma, Ma, Ma.... She cried.

Hold on Lydia, it’ll be over soon, answered Penelope.

Lydia squirmed and bleated and kicked, to no avail. The two-legs poked her with a needle and then snipped off the end of her tail. For a minute there she forgot about her umbilical cord. Ma, Ma, I don’t like this. Help! Ma!

The two-legs felt her front legs carefully, tilting their heads and making weird sounds. Then they set her down and moved towards the twins.

Lydia ran and hid behind her mother. What happened? Why did they do that? I don’t like two-legs. They won’t catch me ever again.

I know it’s hard. But sometimes life gets pushed onto you, and you don’t always get to choose.

What do you mean?

Well, the two-legs protect us.

What do you mean? asked Lydia again.

We are sheep. There are predators in the bush that want to hurt us, kill us, eat us. The two legs keep them away.

All the time?

Well.......

Then came the night of panic. Lydia woke to hysterical bleating and stampeding sheep. The flock was large and ran in all directions. It would form into one big ball then disperse and regroup in another part of the field, all the while calling and crying for help. Penelope quickly pushed Lydia into a corner and shielded her from the crush of sheep bodies that were herded into the birthing hut. They packed in like sardines, then bolted and spread out across the terrain. From behind Penelope, Lydia quietly cried.

Shhh whispered her Mom. Maybe he won’t find us.

Suddenly, at the front of the pen was a wolf. A brush wolf the two-legs called it, and it was a bit confused. It stopped and stared. It sniffed and whined. Penelope and Lydia remained motionless, scarcely breathing. The wolf appeared to hesitate, then whirled and streaked away into the night. In the distance the two lucky ones could see a large white animal chasing the wolf towards the distant bush.

Lydia started crying again and said What....what happened?

Penelope answered, with a catch in her voice, We got lucky. Wolves want to eat us. But they can’t see us until we move. There was so much sheep scent around; he didn’t know if we were here or not. Then came the dog. We’re safe now.

Chapter 2

All through the night the flock remained nervous. Lydia huddled close to Penelope as they remained in the back corner of the birthing hut. She remembered the wolf; how it looked and how it acted and mostly how it smelled. She knew terror for the first time and didn’t like it. But after a while the flock quieted down and Lydia started to connect the smells of individual sheep to the faces that went with them. She began to forget being scared and started to be curious. She saw the twins, Smiles and Chuckles, giggling as they hid on their mother. She saw Ruth and her son Friedrick and didn’t like either one very much. Then she fell asleep.

Lydia woke to full daylight and felt the need to nurse and Penelope encouraged her to drink her fill. Mothers’ milk was very good. She bounced around a bit and then went outside. She was in a small pasture that was on a flat spot among hills. As far as she could see, sheep busily went about being sheep. There were fences at the pasture’s edge and to the north, past the cedar rails, was the bush country. Trees of pine, birch, cedar, poplar and maple grew and housed all sorts of evil, from what she’d heard Penelope say to Ruth. She could only see the trees and a bit of snow at the bottom of the fence.

March would soon turn to April, and new life was abundant. In the hills around Bognor, April is not always warm and lovely, but it was this year. The pasture was greening up, birds were singing, and lambs were everywhere. Lydia was born to a very large flock with a very large number of valuable breeders.