When I was 16, I had the opportunity to mother a newborn, orphaned lamb on my brother's farm. She was all black and had the same velvety, floppy ears (I named her Amy Joy.). She followed me everywhere. The cutest thing was when we'd go out on the property for a walk. She'd run and hop ahead of me until the occasional car or truck would come rumbling down the nearby highway. Then she'd scamper behind me, peeking out from around my legs to watch the vehicle pass by. The look she'd give me was like, "Mama, what the heck was THAT?!"
My brother attempted to teach her that she was in fact a sheep and belonged with other sheep instead of us, but Amy wasn't having it. Even as a full grown girl, she would follow him into the house.