His opponent matched the gesture. They both stepped back on splinted legs before springing forth and lightly tapping head-to-head.

Turns out, a mirror friend only plays as tough as you do.

Mickey’s reflection was his constant companion before he could safely be around other sheep. The little lamb was born on a small farm started as a pandemic project. His guardians, long sensitive to animals in need, had taken in a flock of 20 sheep who needed rehoming. That group went on to breed and more than double the flock within the first year.

Mickey was born with mobility issues: the poor lamb’s legs buckled so severely at birth that he couldn’t keep up with his flock. At best, they ignored him; at worst, they might pick on him and cause further injury. He couldn’t even stand to nurse from his mom, which would typically be a death sentence on a commercial farm.

But Mickey’s guardians loved him too much to let him die.

Mickey’s guardians brought him into their home, wrapped him in Mickey Mouse diapers (that’s how he got his name), and splinted his legs in the hopes of straightening them out.

Mickey loved the attention and getting to snuggle with the family’s dogs. Slowly, he built up the strength to walk. But his legs still bowed, and his guardians worried about his long-term quality of life. What would happen if he struggled to walk on their uneven pastures? Would his legs buckle under his own weight as he grew?

They worried for his mental wellbeing, too. He was still bright and cheerful and loved attention from his human (and canine) family. But sheep are flock animals, and they thought he might crave the company of other sheep. So his guardians tried placing Mickey with gentle, mild-mannered sheep—but they rejected him. Mickey isolated himself; his once curious, playful spirit dulled.

The family worried that Mickey would continue to decline—but they didn’t want to give up hope. So they tried one more option: contacting us.

The care Mickey received from his guardians is a far cry from the treatment he would have received on most farms.

Mickey is a Polypay: a breed prized for meat, wool, and dairy production. While most of the approximately 573 million sheep slaughtered globally each year are raised abroad (China and Australia top the list for most sheep slaughtered), more than two million are slaughtered each year in the United States alone—including those who were used for wool and dairy production first.

While sheep can live for 12 to 14 years, most lose their lives between six and eight months old. Typically, injured and ailing animals like Mickey don’t even get that long: On most farms, they’re either culled or left to die because it’s more cost-effective to raise healthy animals than to invest in those who might not make it.

Mickey’s veterinarians were hopeful. Since he was still so young, they believed his legs could respond well to splints, casts, and physical therapy. They were more concerned, at the time, about some lumpy growths on his head. Further imaging revealed that those lumps are benign and are likely just a cosmetic feature. (Silver lining: His wool growth around the lumps gives him a fancy coif!)

The newly casted and splinted lamb spent his first weeks at our Melrose Small Animal Hospital: a hub of activity at our New York Sanctuary where caregivers prepare special feed and medication, chart the animals’ health, and closely monitor those in need of extra care. Mickey didn’t seem to mind his frequent checks and therapies, so long as they meant more pets and cuddles from our team.

When he grew a bit stronger, we moved him to a barn stall neighboring other sheep before joining him with neighbors Holly and Sadie: a bonded sheep and goat who also need additional mobility support. Their introduction was seamless, if not a bit uneventful: no butting heads, but no instant love connection, either (Mickey’s still a bit shy around other animals). But he’s coming around: While he turns to his stuffed rhino for a cuddle at times, he’s slowly getting used to his new friends and enjoys grazing and playing in their pasture.

Mickey’s since graduated from casts and splints and is responding well to physical therapy. He’s getting stronger by the day and is a curious, lovable little lamb who enjoys playing and snuggling up with our caregiving team. (He especially loves a good scratch around his “bouffant” hairstyle.)

He, Holly, and Sadie also recently joined the neighboring special needs herd. Now that he’s safe at Sanctuary—and because his guardians chose to give him that chance—Mickey has the life he was born to lead: one where we can simply be a sheep.