I took this picture last Friday, at about 8 a.m. It's impossibly bucolic, right? The peaceful flock grazing serenely in the misty morning light. DO NOT BE FOOLED. These sheep have sold their souls to the devil (yes, sheep have souls for the purposes of this rant) for the ability to roam freely.
We, and more specifically the MiL and I, have spent more time chasing sheep in the last few weeks than should be necessary for a flock of six. The stupid things are like Houdini--escaping from impossible situations left and right. The ewes have knocked their fences over in pursuit of grape leaves, the lambs have slithered under their fences in pursuit of day lilies. The ram has knocked the gate to the paddock open in pursuit of . . . I don't even know. He didn't even go anywhere.
And that's the thing. It's not like they want to get out so they can GO anywhere. They just hang around outside the fence, eating whatever is closest and maaing (sheep maa, they don't baa) at the sheep still inside. Once they get out, they want to be back in. It's irritating in the extreme. Especially since I invariably discover them after I've showered and put on a skirt and flip flops. Not ideal sheep-herding clothes.
The lambs' little escapade in my vegetable garden this weekend inspired a call to the meat processing plant to inquire about dispatching Senior Lambie, who is a good 70 pounds already. All the lambs will eventually be, uh, disposed of, leaving us with three sheep again. Which is fine with me, but makes A. panic. MUST GET MORE SHEEP. So he's looking into getting some more ewes. And the kind he wants to get is half Rambouillet. Rambouillets are HUGE. Like small pony huge. I am not so keen on this idea.
I can only hope that these new sheep have not yet made a pact with the devil. I have my doubts, though. Think about it--sheep have cloven hooves.
Where's my crucifix?
11 comments:
"The ram has knocked the gate to the paddock open in pursuit of . . . I don't even know."
Duuh, didn't you just say the ewes had gotten out?
They didn't all get out at the same time. He didn't even try to go to the upper pasture where the ewes were--he just hung around the gate eating day lilies. Moron.
I maintain that sheep are very intelligent, but have incredibly bad short-term memories. So, they quickly hatch these master schemes to enslave the human race, break the fence and then...uhhhh....what? Oh hey, grape leaves.
(Also: I am now hungry for stuffed grape leaves.)
Jive Turkey, you are so right. They are the ADD units of the animal world.
Kristin... lamb is yummy! One of my favorite foods. Hurray for you.
must get sheep so can laugh at them all day.
Oh, there's no doubt their short-term memory only stores the last 30 seconds or so. Even when we docked the lambs' tails--you know, CUT THEM OFF WITH A BURNING HOT BLADE--as soon as we put them back with their mothers, they were eating.
And Ms. Picket? I don't so much laugh as swear. Profusely, especially when they get into my vegetable garden. I'm going to enjoy those lamb chops . . .
Hmmm. Escaping livestock. Doesn't that remind you of A.'s uncle and his cattle?
did you name the ram damien?
I had no idea sheep were so devious!
Those sweet looking souls couldn't possibly be all that bad. Just look at them. They just want some more personal space, a little freedom. Of course, sprinkling a little holy water on them can't hurt, can it?
my, i've missed so much!
well, this post makes it slightly easier for me to eat lamb. does that make you feel any better? perhaps it's time to find some good middle eastern lamb dish: I'll eat it with vigor!
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