Lambing Season Again

It’s here again, ahh I hear them say, gamboling through the fields their mother’s not far away, smiles all round, heart strings moved, are they not so cute, you’d like to have one for a pet, who’d harm a lamb, animal haters worse than mass killers, the cruelty I can hear you pray, yet they all end up at the hands of chain saw killers, blood pouring everywhere, but it don’t put you off your dinner, lambs aren’t lambs for long, like little babies they too become another kind of prey, really, you can’t be serious, officer I wasn’t actually going to abuse a child formally, I don’t do those kind of things normally, the images were free by the way, so was the first bag of heroin, the one that hooked those children all those years ago.

Lambing season advice, warm indoor space required, a good source of running of water, room for them to run around and plenty of hay, that’d be a good start I hear the farmer say. What happens after that is up to the meat eater, some like them tender, others eat them rare, more often it’s best to roast them over a spit, but you’ll get a good meal for twelve out of one, then that’s the end of that, for the poor little gamboling lamb that you thought so tender and sweet, unless you want to keep a few alive and healthy for the season ahead, when you want to breed more to eat. It's a bit like children, love and more love, the more get it, the more there is to come, mind those lambs, forget about everything else, and we'll all enjoy a good gamboling.