I've Failed You

If ever there was a photo-worthy event, capturing seven sheep running across the road behind A. would be it. But I didn't capture it, because I was wielding the stick to encourage a quick crossing so we wouldn't end up with roadkill mutton.

Perhaps an explanation is in order.

A. decided yesterday that he should move the big ewes to our beach, so they could eat the brush and undergrowth that always flourishes in the woody area between the lake and the road. The road is between the house and the beach, so he had to put up an electric fence to keep them off the road. He did that, and then requested my assistance in moving them to their temporary pasture.

So, he led the way with his ever-useful bucket o' corn and I brought up the rear with a bamboo rod to round up stragglers and prod the entire crew on. Once we got to the road (which is a big, two-lane, state road with many large trucks), we waited for a pause in the traffic and then ran across the road with the sheep. I wish the guys in the red pick-up that saw us could have taken a picture of it. I also wish I could have taken a picture of their faces.

The sheep spent the afternoon grazing down there. They stayed on their side of the fence, but I was afraid they would cause an accident anyway, because people kept slowing down or stopping completely to get a better look. I suppose it was a bizarre sight.

I think A. was planning on putting them down there again today, so I'll try to get a photo of our beach-bum sheep sometime today and post it tomorrow. Assuming we can get them across the road again.

Which leads us to the question of the day: Why did the sheep cross the road?

Answer: To eat the buckthorn trees on the other side.