IT'S NOT unusual for my husband Bob and I to take our dog Holly on a late evening stroll: in fact any time up to midnight is OK by us, even if it means a car journey to get there.
But we love Nant Y Faenol lane at Bodelwyddan, not least because it has great views, but also because it comes to a dead end and so traffic is rare.
We can let Holly off the lead without much danger of either her or us being run over. The only minor irritation is the odd courting couple parked up, but we just walk discreetly by, trying to avoid embarrassing them or us.
However, Holly has her own reason for enjoying the walk because she always calls to pick up her pal Shandy, a golden retriever from the cottage along the way.
Jeff, Shandy's owner, tells us he sits in the conservatory staring out in anticipation until we arrive. It's become a bit of a ritual: Shandy gets a bit depressed if we miss a day or two, so we always make a big fuss of him when that happens.
Nant Y Faenol lane is also close to the place where we have encountered farm animal neglect, so it came as no surprise to find yet another victim.
It's here that, a year ago, we found two blind lambs. The farmer had allowed his animals to suffer while their eyes were painfully eaten away.
We reported them to Trading Standards but this useless government agency told us that since the animals had gone completely blind, they were no longer suffering. The farmer could continue to fatten them up in a pen until they were big enough for slaughter.
This was not the only case of neglect that we've reported to Trading Standards. That same year and along the same lane we came across a ewe's decomposing body and that of her lamb which had died just minutes before we arrived.
Obviously this lamb had taken some days to join his mother, and since they were found alone next to the stream that skirts the farmer’s field, it’s obvious the lamb was left to die.
One year on and we find ourselves witnessing yet another tragedy, another case of neglect.
On this lane we’ve become inured to the smell of death: even small rodents can give off a pungent odour, so we normally just pass it by until the air is clear again.
On this occasion however it was Holly who alerted us to a lamb lying half submerged in the stream at the bottom of a fairly steep bank.
In true Lassie style, Holly showed real concern for the animal, glancing urgently at Bob then back at the lamb.
It was getting dark by this time, so I shone our torch at the white shape lying very still at the edge of the water.
A lamb encountered on our walks
At this point we weren't quite sure what it was that Holly was trying to tell us about, so Bob went in for a closer look. He shouted back that it was a lamb and was still alive, but he couldn't get to it without going into the water.
With that Bob shot back up the bank to ring the RSPCA, who promised to be with us within the hour.
Bob stripped down to his underpants and, with gallows humour, said: "If any courting couples drive up here tonight, they'll be in for a shock.”
Damned right, I thought, looking at Bob's white torso in the fading light!
Bob had some old over trousers and boots in the car boot, so got into them before scrambling back over a rickety wire fence and back down to the lamb.
He managed to move the lamb onto the opposite bank while we waited for the RSPCA inspector.
All the while I could hear Bob talking gently to the animal, soothing her. Feeling a bit redundant, I decided to take Shandy back to Jeff's and pick up our car.
By the time I got back to Bob, it was nearly midnight. Thankfully the RSPCA arrived just after me. The inspector was brilliant and we will never be able to thank him enough.
He showed great compassion for the poor lamb. Unfortunately she was very weak and riddled with maggots and.according to the inspector. must have been suffering for weeks.
He said her abdomen was very swollen and it looked as if fly spawn had eaten their way into her stomach.
He asked if we minded that he put her to sleep.
As he injected into her heart (her circulation was poor), she whimpered just once, then struggled and rattled off a cough for a few seconds before laying still.
With tears streaming down my face I asked if she'd gone. The inspector shook his head - she was unconscious, thankfully.
Five minutes later he carried her out in a bag and placed her onto the lane beside his van. We talked for 10 minutes before he checked again and this time she was gone.
I asked if I could stroke her and to tell her that we cared. I thought he might think me pathetic, but he just looked sad and nodded.
We asked what would happen to the farmer. After all, this was the fifth lamb in two years that had been left to rot by this stream. He said he didn't know - but that he would be reporting it to his superiors and it would be up to them.
We left it at that, then left for home. The only comfort being that the poor pitiful animal was now out of her misery.
As we left the lane behind Bob must have read my thoughts. He said: "At least she won't have to suffer the terror and indignity of the slaughter-house, or be tortured for the live export trade.
“This little lamb died in the company of those that cared for her.”
