She came into our life at just two weeks old. An orphaned lamb with soulful eyes and boundless energy, given a second chance at life by my daughter Tash. She was quite a little surprise.

Blogging with Lamby

I didn’t realise I was going to become a grandmother. And I sure didn’t count on her being the inspiration for many of my posts. She was my first grand-kid, pardon the pun.

How could I not love her at first sight? Those eyes could melt any heart and she was so little. I bottle fed her and woke early to make sure she didn’t miss her regular milk.

Last week she passed away, suddenly, with no warning. My daughter, in tears, rang to tell us the news.

Many of my long term readers will remember Lamby. The rambunctious baby lamb who wormed her way into our life and into my heart.

She was only supposed to stay a few weeks. Instead she was with us for nearly nine months. Our home became her home and wow, she made her presence felt.

While she was with us she kept the grass meticulously low. She devoured most of my plants and had a particular penchant for pineapple sage. Harry became her best friend and I’m sure Lamby believed she was a dog herself.

She slept under cover, in the woodshed and outside the kitchen door and occasionally wrangled her way inside, much to my daughter’s delight. Outside in my suburban backyard she became my gardening partner. And when I called her, she’d come running.

And then she grew BIG. Too big to stay. We knew it was time for her to go.

For the next two years Lamby lived in the green pastures of the High Country in Victoria.

She’s had a good life. She’s kept company with the dogs, jumped and ran alongside the horses and poked her nose up at the sheep in the next paddock. She’d baaa at anyone who came to the house. Yep, she was no lamb, she was a dog! Or so she thought.

When she left here on the horse float back in 2017, my garden was relieved but, I’ll be honest, she left a bit of a hole and not just in the backyard. A few months later she returned, while they were building a new fence and I wrote No Sheepish Matter.

Little Lamby, aka Lamatron, Lamborghini and Boofhead, wasn’t so little anymore. She’d grown a bit of an attitude and developed her own personality. This cheeky minx liked to test her boundaries. When she left here, for the final time, I wrote: Lessons from a Lamb.


Who would have thought that raising such a little creature would have such a big impact. She may have been only a sheep but she taught me many lessons, not the least was to love fully and live in the moment. Animals have an uncanny ability to teach us. No words are needed.

We may look different but we’re all the same underneath.

Lamby made us all smile. Even as a fully fledged sheep and in her grumpy moments she was pure love and joy. And she won’t be forgotten. RIP sweet little one, may the grass be forever green where you are.

In love and light.


Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses … and eat the daisies … and the mint and the parsley!
A fully grown Lamby and pal Tilly in their backyard.  Loving life. Relishing the moment.
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