My wife's sheep 'Quasimodo' died this morning, after an infection.
So named because he had a bent neck due to being crushed against his brother in the womb, and wouldn't have been kept alive had she not taken him on.
He never really realized he was a sheep, and would run about with the dogs at the stable yard (mostly in big circles, 'cos he couldn't see to the left)
Anyhow, I dug the hole, in the frozen, stony field and laid him to rest. He had a good two years but would never have made 'old mutton'.
I bought the missus a cream cake to cheer her up.