Sheepie had a grand adventure the other day. “Grand” by his dull sheep standards; he spent most of the day by himself.
I had to work until close on Friday night, which is becoming a slight problem as the animals should now be closed up around 7:00. When I came home, it was dark and the goats were still in the same pen I had left them in (I left them inside since I was working all day). Sheepie was supposed to be with them, but was nowhere to be found.
I looked in the sheep/goat pasture, all around the back stalls, near the ducks, in the open lean-to area, in the barbecue area, and more, as did my husband. Sheepie normally cries when he is away from Big Daddy.
Was he sold, or, worse, eaten?
But there was no sign of recent activity at the barn; no new blood or wool or embers.
Perhaps he ran away to the sheep farm across the road. I didn’t know.
I went home with my husband and commented that at least with Sheepie’s shitty looking fur we can tell him apart from any other sheep. Maybe I’d go over to that farm, finally introduce myself, and ask them if I saw my sheep the next day.
Instead, I woke up at 8:30am to a text message: “plz keep sheep indoors Today He is being Picked up later on, thanks muchly.”
(To clarify, Sheepie isn’t technically mine. He was bought by the owners of the property and I care for him on a daily basis because he lives at the barn.)
Uh yeah, that reminded me of this exchange. The property owner must think I’m pretty incompetent at times. When I asked him if maybe someone picked up Sheepie yesterday instead and explained the situation, he responded with a mere “oh no.”
Anyways, long story short, I found Sheepie in the pasture behind the pen where the goats were locked up. I have no idea why he didn’t go around and back into the barn, but whatever. So I locked him up by himself so his supposed new owner could pick him up easily and went to a wedding.
He was still there when I returned that night. I mean, who the fuck knows what’s happening with the barn ever, eh? Surprise pets, animal escapees, babies coming out of the woodwork, like my goodness, it is SO exciting.
Yesterday Helga and her ten duckling children decided to have a grand adventure which consisted of pretending to be a roadblock. Instead of going into the fields, into the backyard that borders the barn, going to the creek by the pathway, they decided they would walk down the road a little. It sounded like they had decided to stop randomly too, what fun!
So some nice lady stopped her car and was trying to help them off of the road. I didn’t know that right away, though, I was just woken up from a delightful nap to be told that some lady was pulled over with my ducks down the road (thanks neighbour for informing me). I didn’t know if this bitch was trying to steal my ducklings or what. I jumped out of bed and by the time I got to the situation I was realized she was a nice lady who was trying to help, not some thieving bitch like I originally assumed, and I thanked her. She actually had herded them back to the barn too, not into the backseat of her car like I assumed most people would do.
My neighbours lingered for a few moments longer, asking me who owned the ducks. Unlike the goats, sheep, and many of the chickens, I undeniably “own” Helga.
Later, I thought back to when Helga tried to attack me for picking up little injured Simon and how I’m lucky she didn’t attack Nice Lady and get me sued. I don’t think she would, but I also didn’t think she’d take her babies onto the bloody road.
It is cold and windy today and I have lots to do so I should get going. Yes, the cold and wind is relevant; it makes me need to move lest I get too tempted by a cozy, warm bed to nap in and end up getting nothing accomplished.
I’ve already been to the doctor today (lame), texted my bosses, and tried to contact someone about some POLISH CHICKENS FOR SALE OH MY GOODNESS I CLEARLY NEED THEM.