My Stories


by Barbara Bockman

lamb baby




Butting practice in the meadow was lively and noisy.
Spunky lowered his head and rammed his opponent, Tag. Gee, it was great to be a young lamb. Spunky liked the way his new horns tickled and the way his muscles bulged. He felt stronger every day.
Butting practice was fun but hard work. Spunky felt warm under his wooly white fleece. “Race you to the creek!” Spunky challenged the other lambs. His black hooves glinted like patent leather in the sunlight. The rest of the flock followed Spunky down the hill.
After a refreshing drink of cool water, the flock wandered over the pasture in different directions. They munched on tender, sweet, red clover.
A sprig of clover leaves stuck out of Spunky’s mouth. He looked toward the farmhouse where the shepherd lived. The shepherd was usually with the flock, keeping them grouped together and finding them good places to graze. He also protected them. Once he had killed a wolf that stalked the sheep and hung his hide on the barn.
The shepherd must be sick,” thought Spunky. “I hope he will be well soon. I miss him. And we’re getting scattered without him.”
Before Spunky turned to rejoin the lambs, he looked into the woods. A dark shape slunk from tree to tree. A wolf! It was creeping up on a stray lamb, Spunky’s butting partner, Tag.
Spunky shook with fright. “I must run and hide!”
Spunky whirled around and ran a few steps. Then he stopped short. What was happening inside him? He felt his courage growing. It overcame his fear.


“I can’t leave Tag,” he thought. “But how can I protect him? I’m too small to fight a wolf. Ohhh, I wish the shepherd were here.” 
Spunky exercised his brain as he had exercised his body. An idea came to him. He ran to the barn. He took the stinky wolf skin down from the wall, and wrapped it around himself. The strong smell of wolf was foul, but Spunky braced himself to do what needed to be done. He strutted over to the big bad wolf.
With a tough voice, Spunky said, “Get away from that lamb! I saw him first. He’s mine.”
Spunky growled: “Grrrrrr…baaaaaaah!”
Spunky’s “growl” turned into a “bleat.”
Did Spunky give up? Did he run away? No. He tried again. This time he kept his voice low and growly—just like a wolf. “GURRRRRRRRRRRRRR!”
The wolf jumped in his tracks and stared at the strange animal. He had never before seen such an awful looking wolf. He had never before heard such a horrible noise. His nose trembled. This had to be the worst smelling wolf ever—but it was definitely wolf smell.
The wolf made a fast U-turn and ran away crying. He was never seen in those parts again. And he never knew he ran away from a lamb in wolf’s clothing.
Spunky threw off the stinky wolf skin.
“Thanks for saving my life, Spunky,” said Tag.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Tag.”
The rest of the flock trotted up to the two lambs.


“That was a neat trick, Spunky,” said one of the sheep. The rest of the flock agreed.
“Baaaaaah.” Spunky blushed with pride.


“Ah…Spunky.” Tag wrinkled his nose. “Maybe you should take a dip in the creek.”


“Good idea. Then, back to butting practice. And let’s stick together.”


The image below can be copied for coloring.