It’s lambing time in the Shire.
Some people’s lovers woo them with flowers, or serenades.
Mine fetches me newborn lambs to stroke.
They’re very soft and sweet and compliant.
They feel like a woolly little coat and a kitty and a baby goat, all rolled into one.
The mama was worried, but we reunited them. My lambie had a twin.
And then Finch caught me a little black one.
And then we walked along the river, looked at birds and spring flowers, and then drank champagne in the bath.