Friday, March 20, 2009
My invisible sheep.
I've been a bit sheepish about writing about Bonnie, the new Jacob Sheep, because after these pictures were taken she disappeared--I presumed into the gullet of some wily coyote. I always feel a deep sense of shame when my livestock fails to thrive. Or just keels over dead which is more common. Actually, I was able to clean her up after this and shear most of the bad wool from her. I had to cut a lamb collar out of her neck that had grown into her throat. And then, that night, her butt got chewed up. I blamed Max but ended up having to shoot the neighbor's pit bulls off the ridge. (Didn't hit them though I totally wouldn't be sorry if I had.) Whosoever chewed up the sheep butt--it was pretty badly chewed, but I was able to doctor her up. But after so much trauma, it's not surprising Bonnie Sheep decided to become invisible.
I'd despaired of her returning, but she showed up again yesterday and today. I was hopeful she could incorporate herself into the small herd here, but it seems Jacob Sheep have little to no herding instinct. Which is too bad, since my two Shetland boys are badass eunuch warriors worthy of guarding any sheep seraglio. They would protect her if she'd let them and if they weren't just "not that into her." Actually, Mutton tried to beat the crap out of her. I really feel sorry for the poor baby. My place is much more Wild Kingdom than Mr. Greenjeans. And Bonnie is very much a pet.
Anyway, cross your fingers she is able to blend into the herd. It's the best thing for her. Mutton is the thinking sheep and she wouldn't have to do any thinking at all. Sheep are happiest when they don't have to think. Poor Mutton is mad as a hatter from all the thoughts he's had to endure.
Good thing she came with a name. Or I would have prolly named her "Shank". To go with Mutton and Chops.