Three Things
Three things struck us the moment we first met Tansy.
The first was her hernia, hanging heavy where her udder should have been. It was an enormous, swollen mass that swung beneath her like a bowling ball with every careful step she took. The second thing was her curious and gentle nature. Tansy wasted no time introducing herself, reaching forward with her fuzzy, speckled muzzle to explore our faces like we were long lost friends.
And perhaps, on some level, we are. Each little puff of warm breath only made us fall for her more.
And the third thing was her precious baby, Tilly.
It was clear from the very first moment that Tilly adored her mumma just as deeply as Tansy adored her.
So what was your story, dear girl?
Her teeth suggested she was around four years old, yet her open and trusting nature told us something even more important. Tansy had known kindness before. A rare and welcome thing in the life of a sheep such as she.
But her body told another story.
We soon learned that Tansy had lambed only months earlier to quadruplets. Two babies were pulled dead from their mumma during the birth. Tilly and one sibling survived, but only Tilly got to come with her mumma to sanctuary.
In the brutal struggle to bring them into the world, Tansy’s body had paid the price and the hernia was the result.
It was horrific.
Yet when you meet Tansy, there is something almost divine about her presence. She greets you with a familiarity that suggests she has done this a million times before. Her trust in us is so freely given that it feels like a responsibility we must never betray.
Which is why sending her for surgery filled us with both hope and fear. The operation would either save her life or take it. So when the words finally came, “She is waking up,” our relief was impossible to contain.
Back at sanctuary, dear Tilly still waited, uncertain and missing the one whose quiet strength had always guided her. And once they were reunited, there was no doubt that it was true.
During Tansy’s recovery, she will wear a special girdle. One that was once used by another beloved sheep named Tuppence, who also carried the burden of a hernia many years ago.
And looking at Tansy today, she has answered our question of who she is in the same way she first introduced herself to us: by three simple things.
A survivor, a mother, and a gentle soul who reminds us that even after the toughest beginnings, trust and kindness can still find a way forward.