Jasmine Green Rescues a Lamb Called Lucky by Helen Peters

Author:Helen Peters [Peters, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536218398
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2018-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

He put the ewe’s own lamb back in the pen, next to the mother. She turned and sniffed his head as he began to suck from her udder.

“OK,” said Dad softly. “Now put the other one in.”

Full of sadness, Jasmine lowered Lucky into the pen. The ewe turned her head and sniffed him. Then, with a movement so swift that it took Dad and Jasmine completely by surprise, she lowered her broad head and butted him away. Lucky flew across the pen and landed in the straw, sprawled out and winded.

“You see!” cried Jasmine as she gathered him up. “You can’t do this. She hates him.”

“It can take a while,” said Dad. “They don’t usually accept a new lamb right away.”

Jasmine laid her cheek against Lucky’s face. “You poor little thing. Are you all right?”

Lucky bleated and nibbled her ear.

“She’ll get used to him,” said Dad. “We’ll tie her up so she can’t headbutt him.”

He fetched a rope halter from the corner of the barn and climbed into the pen.

“Hold her head steady,” he said.

Burning with resentment, Jasmine held the ewe’s big woolly head as Dad attached the halter and tied the rope around the rail.

“Put him back in there, Jas.”

Jasmine glared at her father’s back. Then she kissed Lucky’s head and lowered him into the pen. She held her breath as he dragged himself over to the ewe. The sheep tugged at her collar and swung her head to and fro to try to free herself. When that didn’t work, she aimed a swift kick at Lucky.

The little lamb went flying. He crashed into the metal rail with a force that made Jasmine cry out in horror.

“He’s bleeding!”

She scooped him out of the pen. There was a gash on his left back leg, just above the knee, where the ewe’s sharp hoof had struck him.

Dad frowned and shook his head. “They don’t usually kick,” he said.

“You can’t put him back in there,” said Jasmine, holding Lucky tightly to her. “I won’t let you. I’m not letting him go until you promise I can look after him.”

“She might accept him eventually,” said Dad, “if he were big and strong enough to keep trying. But she’s clearly going to put up a fight, and he’s not going to be able to take much more of that.”

“He’s not going back in there,” Jasmine repeated. “I’m going to look after him myself.”

Dad gave a rueful smile. “All right, Jasmine. You win.”

Jasmine gave a cry of delight. “Oh, thank you, Dad! Did you hear that, Lucky? I’m going to be your foster mother, not that nasty old ewe.”

“Bed up that empty pen,” said Dad. “Put plenty of straw down, and I’ll stack a couple of those small bales around it, to keep out drafts.”

“I’ll ask Mom to treat that cut on his leg, too,” said Jasmine.

“He ought to go under a heat lamp really,” said Dad, “but I’m reluctant to use one again, after last year.”

Jasmine shuddered at the memory. Last spring, the lambing barn had caught fire when a heat lamp fell on the floor and set the straw alight.

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