ON Monday morning, my business accounts were the proud owner of about 1500 social media followers on TikTok and Instagram respectively. As you read this, they are up in the tens of thousands, my phone is on fire, my nerves are a little on the frazzled side, and I’m genuinely incredulous at the traction we’ve got. I’m also increasingly fascinated by human nature.
What’s the cause of this, you ask? The long and short of it is that I am the proud owner of a “wonky” lamb that I put online. It promptly went viral.
As I did my morning checks on Monday, I came across an unusual sight. One of my ewes had birthed a large black lamb. It’s what modern terminology might refer to as an “absolute unit”. Not far away was a small white lamb, sprachling around. It might have been ungainly, but it was loud.
@tireetea what will happen to wonky? lots of you have been asking what will happen to wonky. here's the answer! #farmtok #farming #wonkylamb #scotland #farmlife #cuteanimals #funnyanimals #islandlife ♬ original sound - Tiree Tea
After spending a few minutes trying to work out who on earth owned it, I realised that the ewe was mother to both. As I stood the white lamb up, it became clear that it wasn’t quite right. Its balance was all over the place, and its neck was bent around, which resulted in it falling over every time it managed to stand.
Because social media reach is the only free method of marketing in these god-forsaken times, I got my phone out and filmed the scene.
After feeding it via tube, and getting advice that she had most likely been squashed in the womb by her beast of a brother, and would “come right”, I posted a wee video online. I held my nose and used the hashtag #cuteanimals.
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Maybe it’s because the world is such a dark place right now and people need a distraction, or maybe it’s because few people can resist newborn animals, but that video took off like a rocket. Views that normally number in the hundreds were suddenly in the thousands.
I’ve been trying to find social media traction for quite a while now, and cynical though it might seem, I’m not one to let a good opportunity go to waste. So I decided to see whether this was a one-off, or whether the engagement could be continued.
Over the past week, I’ve posted one or two videos a day charting Wonky’s progress. Despite saying I wasn’t going to name her, I did. Of course I did. And every time, the videos have done incredible numbers. Wonky has developed a large and loyal following. She’s getting stronger by the day, and steadily unwonking.
The main theme was advice.
Would a neck brace help, people asked? Probably not. She needs to build the muscles.
What about a massage? Em. No. It’s a sheep. Hot bath? Heaven help us. Injections, vitamins, supplements … the advice poured in.
Pool noodles on the legs to straighten it out? The mind boggles at the poor creature trying to stand with those over its knees.
I’ve learned that animal chiropractors are a thing. Is there one nearby, they asked in their hundreds? I tried to explain that I live in the Isle of Tiree, and given that a human chiropractor is rarer than a hen’s tooth, an animal one is a little unlikely. I quickly stopped trying to explain.
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By Thursday, someone asked permission to connect with Wonky’s energy and send healing. I nearly said they could connect with mine too, if they could find it – I was cream crackered.
Some thought she would be better removed from her mother to a sanctuary. Someone suggested a GoFundMe to rescue the lamb and her mother from my evil clutches.
“How do you sleep at night?” asked one individual. Soundly, if I’m honest – I’m midway through lambing on my own.
It’s comments like these that remind me how much misunderstanding there still is about what it actually means to raise animals – and why it’s not hypocritical to love them and still eat meat.
The second big theme was animal welfare – specifically the fact that I breed sheep for meat. The comments berating me have been fewer than I expected (so far), but there were a lot of questions about Wonky’s future.
That left me in a quandary. Wonky’s breeding is fairly random, not helped by the fact that I went to Greece and sunned myself at the end of October, leaving ample latitude for two of my three tups to run rings round my barriers – and my father – and let themselves in with all the ewes.
Nothing went to the right tup, and lambing started a week and a half early. It’s been one of those years. So, is Wonky of any value as a breeding sheep? No. By my own rules, if the animal is not of breeding value, then one of two things happens: Either I sell it in the ring at five months old, or I keep it and grow it on myself to produce mutton boxes in three summers’ time.
To many online, desperate for a cause, that makes me a bad person. But I am perfectly comfortable in my decisions. The philosophy I – and most crofters and farmers – work to is the duty of care. That means looking after your animals to the very best of your ability whilst they are in your care. At the very least, they should not suffer. When I am directly involved in the death of an animal, I make sure it is the best death possible.
Many folk who keep sheep don’t eat lamb. I’m afraid I do. I love mutton. I love beef. If I can eat my own, I do.
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But I’d be lying if I said it’s never hard. I am not totally devoid of feelings. Lamb sales are mainly a relief, but I do drive away from the mart and take a look back. I hate getting rid of cast (old) ewes. They’ve worked hard for me, and I know them. But it needs to be done. I hate the day I pick mutton wedders for slaughter. Losing a calf bothers me for weeks. I’ll be in bits the day I lose the first of my cows. It’s part and parcel of caring – and part and parcel of working with nature.
If people want birds, they need flies, and if they want flies, they need manure. And for manure, you need ruminants. Plenty of creatures die to raise the crops that non-meat eaters enjoy – they just don’t look as cute and fluffy.
Real care means facing the hard bits, not avoiding them.
So, what of Wonky? Of course she’s staying! I might eat my own sheep, but I’m also a bit soft. Wonky will join the other sheep I have which, to all intents and purposes, serve no commercial purpose whatsoever. They include the first pet lamb I ever reared – he’s called Vader and is extremely useful on account of his greed. He follows a bucket and everything else follows him.
Then there’s The Angry Triangle, the sheep which got more triangular and steadily angrier the closer she got to giving birth. She inspired an entire brand and is now in retirement on the croft along with her pal Stumpy (on account of her horns).
They’re flanked by Fluffy, a pet from a few years ago who stole our hearts, and five tiny North Ronaldsay sheep which I have because, well, I’m not entirely sure … They drive me up the wall with their escape antics.
Just as the emotions and ethics around raising animals aren’t cut and dried, so too is the question of purpose. Wonky is currently doing a lot of heavy lifting in the marketing department, and she has more than earned her place.
She’ll be here as long as she likes – which’ll no doubt outlast her 15 minutes of fame. But I can live with that.
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