For the Love of Sheep

“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.” – Jesus Christ

When Albert and I lived at our first farm, I had a yen to keep sheep.  So we went to an Amish farm nearby and bought a white baby ewe and ram.  The ram was always a bit reserved, and when he grew up, I couldn’t turn my back to him without getting head-butted in the leg.  But the ewe was one of the sweetest natured animals I’ve ever owned.

The pictures below are of the lambs when we first got them.  A little later, we built them a nice pen on lush green grass.  I believe they had a happy life with us.

TINA'S PICTURES 2004JUNE12 036

The two lambs were inseperable, and when I was near, they were inseperable from me.  They loved to play and race me to the far fencepost of the pen and back again.

TINA'S PICTURES 2004JUNE12 045

TINA'S PICTURES 2004JUNE12 055

The most special time we shared was going for walks.  I would let them out of the pen and with about fifteen cats in tow, we’d walk to the woods that made up about eight acres of our property.  I don’t think it occurred to them to stray from me.  To them, the whole point of being freed from their pen was to follow me wherever I went.  When I crossed the crick in the woods, they nimbly jumped from bank to bank without hesitation.  Then we’d wait as one cat after another poked their heads from the brush and hopped over the water to join us.  Then the whole menagerie would head home.

TINA'S PICTURES 2004JUNE12 054

Then we sold the place.  We decided to rent until we found another little farm we liked and could afford.  The sheep went to auction.  The hired boy there tried to herd them to a holding pen, but the sheep refused to go.  He pushed, shouted and waved his arms, but if it’s possible for hooves to dig into concrete, theirs did.  They had no intention of being herded anywhere.

“Not like that”, I said to the boy.  “Let me do it.”

I called the sheep and they submissively followed me to a holding pen.  I patted them and said goodbye.  I turned and walked away, but the ewe began to bleat.  I went back to sooth her, and she became quiet and calm.  I walked away, but she cried again.  I went back to quiet her again.  I turned away for the third time and walked toward the truck.  Once more, she took up her lament, but I walked on, tears streaming down my face.  I should have kept them.  I should have found a way to keep them.

 

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One response to this post.

  1. Awww (lump in my throat) I hope your sheep found another happy home.

    Reply

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