So we’re driving down this country road looking for the lady who has miniature goats. I’m thinking it’s time to remind her that I want goat babies in a few months. We can’t find the goat lady, so we’re turning around at a farm and–
There were these perfectly wonderful, sweet, adorable sheep.
I. Could. Not. Get. Out. Of. The. Car. Fast. Enough.
So I lost any grip on reality and I was all over this one oh-so-friendly sheep, taking pictures of it, talking to it, petting it. This man came outside the farmhouse and said, “Can I help you?” Now, this happens sometimes when I’m taking pictures. People want to know what I’m doing. Especially when I’m traipsing on their property. Usually, I just explain that I’m taking pictures. Which is weird enough. But by this point, I was practically spasming over this sheep and the whole truth had to go and pop out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, I have a fixation with farm animals.”
Oddly, this didn’t seem to faze the farm owner, whose big concern seemed to be that his puppy had gotten out and would I help him get it? Puppy? What puppy? I can’t see anything but THE SHEEP. With some effort, I expanded my focus, chased a rather large puppy around the yard several times, and eventually captured it and gave it to the man, who promptly went back inside his farmhouse, leaving me to my sheep fixation. He did tell me, before he disappeared, that it was a pet sheep. Bottle fed.
I WANT ONE OF THOSE.
This sheep was so cute. And fluffy. Look how fluffy it is!
Before the man went inside, I asked him if the sheep was fat, or just needed a haircut. Yes, I ask stupid questions. No, he didn’t answer me.
This sheep was in love with me. Can’t you see it in its eyes?
Well, actually, it was kinda in love with the pickup truck I was riding in. The sheep kept walking around and around the truck, rubbing up against it.
And I kept chasing it. Around and around the truck.
But it loved me. I can tell.