Most of the lambs around here never get names. Their time on this earth is limited and in many cases it's difficult to even tell them apart. But once in awhile a special soul will rise above, be it for physical attribute or personality trait, and be chosen for such an honor. In this case, he chose me.
And I named him... Paul.
That's right, Paul. Paul the lamb!
It started with a small crush. He was always underfoot while I was snuggling with Speedy, occasionally rubbing his budding horns on my shoudler. Soon he became more forward: unbuttoning my sweater (I kid you not), nuzzling into my hair, placing a hoof on either shoulder and licking my ear. I was powerless to resist his charms and he quickly became my obvious favorite. Ulla (farmer) told me I should definitely name him. She told me I would go out into the field that evening and the name would just come to me.
And err...it did. And it was Paul. Don't ask me why. I could have chosen Kevin or Bruce, or Tiddlysticks, but I chose Paul. And this shall be his name for ever more.