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I don’t like it when the sheep get out. If one of the goats gets out, no problem. Usually, they come find me. Because they got tired of waiting for somebody to bring them cookies and are clip-clopping up the porch steps to fetch a few for themselves. When sheep get out, they don’t want anything to do with you. They weren’t looking for you and they really don’t want to chat with you, either. Or go back home. After all, the grass is always greener somewhere else. They’d just as soon keep going, thanks. They’re really NOT ATTACHED TO YOU.
So when I discovered Jester and her two lambs strolling down the road yesterday, I armed myself with what weaponry I had at my disposal. Sweet feed.
Jester eyed me suspiciously. She was, after all, enjoying her sojourn, and not the least bit interested in my company.
“Let me show you my tantalizing bucket,” I said.
The sheer deliciousness was impossible to deny. Others, still inside the pasture, came to its siren call, following us from the other side of the fence.
Babies go wherever mama goes.
I continued to lure her, spellbound, on the track of my fantastical bucket.
We reached the magical portal to safety. I disarmed the high-tech security sealing its confines.
And then someone, I think it might have been Jack, because he wanted that bucket for himself, said, “Jester, you should go to Paris.”
WAIT!!
I HAVE A BUCKET!!!!
She turned. There was hope again. Because what else am I going to do? Chase her down and tackle her? Lasso her? I don’t have a lasso.
She weighed her options. The world was hers! Freedom! She’d go to Paris, get an apartment overlooking the Seine. She’d sell her art on the streets. Her babies would collect coins from passersby. They’d live on love–
–or they could live on that BUCKET.
That’s right. You remember the BUCKET.
I opened the gate and tossed the sweet feed from the bucket on the ground. In you go.
Don’t worry, Jester. You’ll always have Paris.
IN YOUR DREAMS!!!
And then we repaired the break in the fence.
The End.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on March 31, 2010
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The sheep could be Boomer’s job! Then he’s have another reason to be the big dog!
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A lot of help those dogs were!
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*Ü*
Joni
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The End.”
Ahhhh if that were only true. More like:
And then we repaired the break in the fence.
The End, until next time, which will be soon or it may be later but in the future we will need to fix it again and again and again.
Smiles,
Lisa
Oh and Chock Full O’Nuts still uses the metal cans. I make my husband drink it just for the cans.
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No word on the Misses Cotswolds yet. I look for new lambs every morning and have so far been disappointed.
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Susan
PS. Love your baby sheep!
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P.S. Our Jacob mama Ginger finally popped last week and had twins! A Boy and a Girl.
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Great story! And yes, children’s books, please. My husband teaches second grade and he’d read them to his class, so I’d have an excuse to buy them!