Once upon a time there was a sheep who was all alone.
Well, the story goes like this. While I was in the country (yes, I’m back in the city now), I would take a morning perambulation to survey the countryside around me and take in the beautiful refreshing air.
In the paddock that ran alongside the road, the sheep meandered, munching on grass, heads down as sheep do, until I walked past. Then it was heads jerked up, ears attuned and when I got too close it was off with a race to put a bit more distance between us.
But, at the top of the road where there were no sheep, there, on his/her lonesome was a single sheep just sitting, doing nothing, almost like he (we’ll call it he – saves on me having to type the letter “s”), was waiting for something – or maybe someone?
The first couple of mornings he bleated when he saw me and actually wandered over to the fence. However, I couldn’t get to him as there was a double fence line with quite a gap between, so I have no idea if I could have pat him as I would have liked to have done.
He was there every morning for a couple of weeks. Then just as quickly as he’d appeared – he was gone.
Now, I’m going to make up the story that he had been feeling a little depressed and had wanted some “time out”. Then, on feeling back to his old self again (maybe my visits helped), he’d gone back to join his mates in the flock. That is a far better image than him having been singled out to fatten up for the Christmas table.
Oh, and just so you know that I really was in the country …. I photo bombed the sheep and the chooks where I was staying.
At time of writing I had, in fact, left the country and was already ensconced in the first of the house-sits for 2017 … actually had Christmas here. Read about it in the next post.