I've always, for as long as I can remember, liked sheep. They're cute - is there really anything cuter than lambs?! - they're a pleasure to watch, and there's something infinitely peaceful about them. I even like the way they smell.
I've also always "wanted" sheep, although I've never really known much about them, besides that they're cute, and a pleasure to watch. In other words, nothing.Trips to Scotland have only made the wanting stronger, but have done nothing to educate me on the realities. A dangerous combination, surely.
I've met a flock or two in the past, and met another flock yesterday, only these girls were different: they're not wool-producing sheep, they're hair sheep. No shearing, no tail-docking, fewer parasites. And still cute. One latte coated ewe came up and nuzzled my hand through the fence. When I scratched her furry forehead she leaned into me, and wagged her tail. Like a dog. I was smitten. I asked if she had a name, and when I discovered she didn't, I proposed "Puppy." Connor, the 8 yr old boy who lives there, agreed wholeheartedly. So that's me smitten twice in one day, once by a tail-wagging ewe named Puppy, and again by a blue-eyed boy named Connor, who told me his barn cat Hissy "has a crooked voice."
I'm not heading out to build a sheep shed and a paddock just yet, but with 8 acres to do with as we wish, I'm not ruling it out, either.
|Katahdin Hair Sheep|
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If someone wants a sheep, then that means that he exists.
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince