The news today, August 9th, is that Fabio has gone where all lambs eventually go. I have written two concluding verses to his poem, and here it is in its entirety.
You'll be missed, little one! Helen
Fabio was a little lamb
Whose mother was quite dizzy
And said to him, when he was born,
Get outta here, I'm busy
But Mama dear wee Fabio cried,
There's no one here but ewe.
I need to have a Mama -
Whatever shall I do? (It's enough to give a lamb a complex!)
Oh, poor, rejected, tiny lamb
But someone saw his plight -
And lo! - two pairs of human hands,
Contrived to make it right.
From out of nowhere there appeared
A substitute for mother.
It was a funny shade of green
And tasted just like rubber.
Now Fabio's fleece was awfully grey
And covered in molasses
And when he slept out in the field
It picked up dirt and grasses.
(Now Why molasses? you may ask,
A quite strange thing to do;
It's so he'd be adopted
By a lambless, sweet-toothed ewe.)
But Fabio had lovely ears,
They stood up tall and pink.
He loved to have them tickled
It helped to make him think.
At that point he was nameless
But in a far-off land,
A man was coaching footie;
That team had many fans.
It's time we named this baby,
Said all the Proctor Clan,
It might improve our chances,
To have a winning hand.
So young Fabio was christened
Though it didn't help the game,
And all the fans in Lambwatch land
Thought the loss a shame.
So Fabio ate and Fabio grew
And stole the hearts of all
And danced around the sign for us
And life was such a ball!
Then one fine day his parents said,
You're old enough, my boy,
To learn to live on grass alone,
And it will give you joy.
Oh, mother, dad, I hate this stuff,
My bottle is so tasty,
I don't like this decision -
I fear it is too hasty.
But parents, even foster ones,
Do really know what's best,
And took away the bottle,
And paid the price in rest...
For Fabio raged and Fabio roared
And howled into the night
And when at last the morning came,
He stood there in the light -
He cried aloud, Baa! Humbug!
I'm not a happy lamb,
And mourned beneath their windows,
And wept before the cam.
But parents do know best, it sells,
And soon he did stop weeping,
He's still quite tiny but he'll grow
And live there in safe-keeping (for now, anyway.)
And then he thought, Life ain't so bad,
Though rejected I may be,
There's lots of folks on Lambwatch
Who'd love to mother me!
There came a day, as all days must,
When Fabio left the farm
There was a little sadness:
We really missed his charm.
But now he plays in greener fields.
Oh! fans!! Don't mourn nor weep,
He lives his dream, to coach a team
Of football-playing sheep.
