Farm on the M62: 'How truly low the human race can sink, all in the name of entertainment' - Jill Thorp

They’re all strong, healthy lambs and although I’ve yet to see one that could set the show ring alight, they’re here and thriving which is good enough for me. A couple of my older ewes were claimed last year and went to the Zwartble tup, known as Martin Luca King.

Luca performed his duties and the first of the “Black Leicester’s” arrived at the weekend. To the little guy, they are quite simply, amazing.

The first one, a tiny little dot of a thing is revered above all others. He’s so small, he could get lost inside my pocket, but to our son, he is magnificent.

Timmy, as he is now known, has not been quite so lucky on the mothering front. Maternal instincts appear to be somewhat lacking and the little mite spends most of his time following John-William and bleating for attention.

Despite being in thick straw and with plenty of bodies to warm the place up, the lambing shed has been a cold one so far for the new arrivals.

That icy cold wind blowing in from the east, finds it’s way in, stripping warmth from their bodies.

The threat of snow lurks just around the corner and despite the sun making quite an appearance over the last week or so, the temperatures remain very low.

The Deanhead valley seems to have become a regular dumping ground and every day brings a new load of rubbish. Sadly, building and household waste isn’t the only thing that is being abandoned up there as it seems to have become an ideal quiet spot to get rid of your unwanted dog.

These are not your ordinary family pets, however. The horrific injuries to their faces tell us all we need to know about the barbaric life these poor souls are leading.

The latest one was a terrifying sight looming out of the darkness, dangerously close to our in- lamb ewes. A neighbour alerted us to his presence, late one night when we’d all gone to bed.

Paul headed straight up onto the tops and despite finding the dog, he wasn’t for catching or befriending. The sheer size of him and the threatening growl which he emitted made Paul keep his distance.

The last few days have been horrendous as we desperately look for the dog. For their own safety, the ewes have all been moved down to the farm whilst the search continues.

I’m yet again reminded of how truly low the human race can sink, all in the name of entertainment.

These poor creatures didn’t ask for this life they find themselves in and certainly don’t deserve to be dumped like a used up piece of trash.

For us, there’ll be many hours spent searching the moors in the hope the dog can be safely caught before our nightmare comes to an end.