The Thread That Ties Us

First came Mary Poppins, a sweet little lamb born with a misshapen mouth. Something painted vivid by an overbite that rendered her unable to latch onto her mumma’s teat. Arriving with the vital window for colostrum rapidly closing, it was a race against time and ingenuity to get that liquid gold inside her.

We trialled an entire history of old teats until she proudly chose her winner: a bulbous red one with a bright yellow cap. Though she wore more milk than she drank at first, Mary has now officially found her rhythm.

Not twenty-four hours later, another call came. Her sibling, we learned, was also struggling. Much smaller in frame, Mister Pop Over, as he was affectionately named, had no anatomical excuse for refusing to suckle. Perhaps, we mused, it was simply his sister his tiny heart missed. For despite the many hours and different smells of separation that had elapsed, he knew instantly who his other half was. And rarely now are the two very far apart, despite their many choices of companion.

And before you ask, yes, we did try to get their mumma too, but alas, it was not to be.

Both Aussie Whites, they are masterpieces of nature and brilliance, so white they seem spun from moonlight and frost. And as if she couldn’t be more unique, little Mary wears a flawless beige love heart on the inside of her right hind leg.

Now reunited, their late-night gambols with Lolly Pop and K-Pop around the vet room, just when all we want is bed, are the perfect antidote to our exhaustion. Their lamby parkour, rambunctiousness and carefree spirits remind us that meaning is not found only in what we do but in who we do it with, love being the thread that ties us all together.

And as we finally close the door and walk back through the darkness, nothing else moves.

Nothing except our hearts.