This has been described before on'ere.
I was out with my family in Wales, wandering around a farm/zoo place in the drizzle. We saw the llamas and the funny cows, and then the kids spotted a sheep stuck between a fence and a hedge. It was bleating and a larger sheep was bleating back. My kids were quite upset about it so we went off to find the farmer.
He said not to worry, the sheep would get out on its own. When we went back though it was still there and seemed more distressed than before.
By now my kids were crying and begging me to help the sheep. I decided to give it a shot and leaned over the fence, grabbed a big handful of fleece in each hand and pulled hard.
The sheep lifted off the ground and to my surprise, flew up over my head. I swung it round and over my shoulder and it landed on all fours and ran off to the other sheep, which we realised was its mother. They ambled away happily together. The kids cheered!
The thick fleece had made it look like a full-grown sheep and not a lamb, so I had gripped it and pulled upwards as hard as I could, but it was actually tiny under all that wool.
As I realised all this I looked at my hands. There was blood running down the palms, mixed with rain. There must have been thorns caught in the fleece which had dug into my hands.
I watched for a minute or so and saw the blood run away, leaving no trace. No cuts.
So that's my stigmata story; Scargy heroically rescuing the Lost Sheep.