Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Lamb Story
Spring always brings out pictures of cute little lambs. They always look so sweet and gentle. Let me tell you the REAL story about lambs. When I was younger we ended up with a lamb. It was born on my Grandpa Henrys farm and was rejected by it's Mother. That should have been the first clue. Dad brought it home, and I'm sure we named it, but I can't remember. I don't know if it was a boy or a girl, but for this story I will refer to it as Lambzilla. Lambzilla was a small white lamb. Mom would fill a empty whiskey bottle with formula and we would bottle feed it. Lambzilla didn't live in a pen like normal lambs. Nooo, Lambzilla had an identity crisis and thought it was a dog. It would sleep on the front porch with the dogs. It would leave little "pellet presents" on the porch that Mom would have to sweep off every morning. Lambzilla was a happy little lamb. The problem with Lambzilla was, every day it tried to kill me. Yes, this lamb was violent! It was summer, and I loved to play in the yard. I would go outside and before I knew it Lambzilla would come running. Not towards me where I could see it coming, it was a sneak attack. Lambzilla would run up BEHIND me, with its head down, and head butt me in the back. I was little, and it would knock me over. Time and time again, I would get knocked over. My brother Greg thought this was the funniest thing. You see, he was older and faster and could run to the apple tree for safety. This also gave him a great view of watching me get knocked over. For days I would spend my outside time on the ground. I had worked out a way of not getting knocked over. When I heard Lambzilla coming, I would sit down. The only thing it could do was push on me. I would be screaming for Mom and Greg could be heard laughing from the top of a tree. Obviously, Lambzilla needed to find a new home. I don't remember how long we kept Lambzilla, but I don't think it was very long. I also have no idea what fate awaited Lambzilla. I have visions of a "Lamb Fighting" arena. You know, the matador with a red cape, flashing it as a little white lamb comes charging at it before taking the matador down at the knees. As Spring is right around the corner and you go to that petting zoo, think about Lambzilla and don't turn your back on any cute, little, fuzzy lambs. You have been warned! Take Care!