A Life in the Balance

To say she was emaciated feels far too gentle a word. Even in the first photo sent through, her wool could not hide the truth beneath it. Her spine rose like a jagged ridge, as sharp and unforgiving as the industry from which she came. And with her wool falling away in clumps, it was as though her fragile body was simply running out of places to hold itself together.

We named her Verity, because Verity means truth. And truth is precisely what stood before us. The undeniable truth of neglect and suffering. And of a little lady still trying, with everything she had, to remain in this world.

As we triaged her through the dark, the urgent blood transfusion she so desperately needed had to wait until morning. Her FAMACHA score, a measure of anaemia in sheep, was five, a number where life hangs by the thinnest of threads, if even that. Her PCV, the measure of red blood cells carrying life through her veins, sat dangerously low at five. And her faecal worm burden was staggering, with more than 13,000 Barber’s Pole eggs per gram.

Clinical numbers, yes. But behind every number was Verity. Her heartbeat was almost too tired to argue and her body too depleted to stand. But it was her eyes that haunted us most. They were still searching the room for what this world might do to her next.

Though Verity desperately wanted to run, her legs had long since stopped obeying her will. And while they showed no response to touch, it was when we felt her front left leg that we recoiled. Midway between her ankle and her knee was a calcified lump, an irrevocable reminder of an old break that had healed on its own.

And as she gently nibbled on grass, her body slumped limp. It was as though it had begun to retreat from the world before her spirit was ever ready to surrender. Yet there it was, in each tiny mouthful. That indomitable will to survive.

And so, with that little bit of hope in our hearts, we whispered, “We’ll see you in the morning, our lovely.” And through the long, dark hours, Verity heeded our words.

With the help of dear Finn, who stepped quietly into the role of lifesaving blood donor, Verity was bundled off to the vet. Now, as we sit with our fears and wait, we ask you to hold her in your thoughts too.

Because this little lamb has already been asked to carry more than any life ever should.

And now, it is our turn to carry her.

After all this world has taken from Verity, it is well and truly time for kindness to give something back.