I love animals.

I love them in the same way I love trees, mountains, the ocean; all of nature.

And, although I wasn’t a child who fussed or fretted about animals, I would dearly have loved a little cat of my own. But that was really the extent of my interest in pets.

I didn’t feel a need to acquire a menagerie, or possess or pat every animal in sight. I simply appreciated the differences and beauty they offered to my experience of life.

At Easter time, when we traveled to the country to visit family, along the way Dad would point out the lambs that had just been docked or the sheep which had just been shorn.

At these times, I always felt that there was something unnatural and unkind about what had been done to those animals.

They were being shorn as Autumn was arriving.

Of course, I now understand the kindness behind docking — albeit unnatural and imposed.

But my natural, first impression, was an unpleasant sinking feeling and an overwhelming surge of compassion. Especially for the little baby lambs. Continue reading