Bitter cold, bitter cold, bitter cold. Still, I'll soon be back in my nice, dry shed.
But suddenly, Toby's driver applied the brakes. He could see the farmer standing on a knee deep in snow. He was waving a red flag.
My phone lines are down. All the roads are blocked. And my sheep have just started lambing. They're trapped on the hillsides, cut off by the snow.
What can we do to help?
I need a vet as quickly as possible.
We'll stop at the next signalbox. I'll phone the vet from there.
