My vet called me late at night and said he had a lamb that was about to be slaughtered because he was sick, but if I was willing to pay for his medical bills I could take him. Of course I said yes. He pulled up a few minutes later and pulled out this trembling poor thing from the trunk of his car. It was dark so I couldn't really see anything. I just took this picture and put the lamb in the shelter for the night

First thing the next morning I went to the shelter to see what present we got. I found this poor little guy hiding in the corner. Not sure he moved all night.

We let him out to graze in the sun perhaps for the first time in his life.  Every moment was a bonus since he was scheduled to be slaughtered 2 days earlier.

Unfortunately, when I saw him today, he was really ill.  He had completely given up on a life in which no one had ever cared, and measured his value in pounds. Yet his life was worth so much more than that. As he rubbed his head against my hand I was perhaps giving him an opportunity that was denied him his whole life...an opportunity to express to a human his capacity to love. Yes, he did die 2 hours later, among calls for his throat to be slit so he could be consumed. But that's not what happened. His life had value in itself. His last breath had value. His dying with dignity rather than a pool of blood had value. As he took his last breath, I wanted him to know that his life had meaning to at least one person in this world.