Picture sheep and what do you think ofβ¦ fluffy, cute lambs, gambolling innocently in a spring fresh green field, perhaps accompanied by a bunny or two, symbol of Easter, and the renewal of Life. Or, picture this, a flock of gently milling sheep, woolly and harmless, dainty β hooved and baa-ing melodically as they are guided into place by a clever sheep dogβ¦
Well, youβre wrong. In my opinion, sheep are evil, cunning and duplicitousβ¦ but I can see youβre all still taken in by those innocent, curly-wooled faces and soft round eyesβ¦ Let me go back a few (well, quite a few) years to my child hood.
As my regular readers may remember, my father was a vet, and in true James Herriot fashion, many a waif and stray ended up staying with our family for a while, some even becoming permanent residents, like our rabbit, Sorrel, rescued from a live meat market as I screamed and screamed for Daddy to save the pretty bunny from Watership Downβ¦
One day, my father returned home with a small, sickly lamb. My mother, being a Northern country girl and well accustomed to sheep, took it tenderly from him and wrapped it in a towel, placing it carefully in front of the fire with our German Shepherd dog at the time, the benign and benevolent Nikki.
I came forward eagerly to greet the new arrival and hesitatedβ¦ the lamb turned its head and gazedβ¦ malevolentlyβ¦ back at me. (I swear I heard the music from βThe Omenβ playing faintly somewhereβ¦) I backed cautiously awayβ¦ there was something about its smiling innocence that didnβt sit quite rightβ¦
βOh, yes, little girlβ¦ this is MY house now!β
The little creature thrived and grew, boy, did she grow. Named Lindy, she quickly became part of the pack of dogs, thundering up and downstairs with them, barging into the bathroom while I was on the toiletβ¦ whatever Iβm doing in the bathroom, to be honest, I donβt really care for an audienceβ¦
Charlie: βMy God! What are you doing in the water bowl??β
Me: βOh please, really, Iβd get arrested if I did this in the garden and Daddy wouldnβt be too pleasedβ¦β
Lindy had her own special bed in the kitchen that she stayed in at night time as I screamed when she chased the cat into my bedroom and jumped on my bed. Believe me, my family beat the concept of βBabeβ by a good few years with our dogsheep. She had no manners and would quite happily walk past the table and swipe your bread and butter, chase the cat, bite visitorsβ¦
My father was a little annoyed when the postman would no longer deliver to our houseβ¦ he had to collect our letters from the main post office in town as the postman flatly refused to enter the garden after heβd been chased for the fourth time by the sheepβ¦ I liked that postmanβ¦
The cat and I spent a lot of time up the willow tree in our garden or barricaded in my bedroom. And Lindy grew. When she reached the dimensions of a small dining room table with a head like a boulder, hooves like four circles of Hell and a fleece of wire (I was allergic to her too) her residence with us was abruptly ended.
My father had put up with her becoming my motherβs particular pet, guarding her and sitting on her lap, collecting the post from town and apologising to the neighbours on a regular basis as she (the sheep, not my mother) crashed through hedges and fences cartoon-style; but when she butted him off the edge of the raised patio and broke his ankle, he decided it was time for her to go.
And so she did. To a petting zoo, where there was a lonely male Jacob sheep⦠my parents visited her regularly, they were friends with the owner, and Lindy went on to produce many lambs and have a long and happy life.
My childhood peace was restored and though I am drawn to the undeniable cuteness of toy lambs, to this day I remain extremely wary of sheepβ¦
βMummy, Lindy BIT me!!β
βDonβt be stupid, Samantha, sheep donβt biteβ¦β
Oh dear! Naughty sheep. There are sheep just down the road from my mum’s house and she says in the half hour or so before sunset they just go a bit bonkers and have a big old run around, as if they are using up their energy before bed. Or maybe they are in training for some sort of secret mission… Who knows?
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I think it’s entirely possible that they are undergoing some sort of special S.A.S (Specially Awkward Sheep) training in preparation for a world take over…If I were your mother, I’d move! π
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Brilliant, love it , reminded of a friends father who was a vet in Bishops Castle…he showed us physio students ..a cyclops lamb ….dead of course …
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LOL yes…the Chamber of Horrors…one of my father’s favourite clients was a lady who bred cats who had polydactyly-not sure of the spelling but they had about six toes on each foot!
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What a lovely story! I enjoyed reading this post.
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So pleased you enjoyed it-thank you!
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Are you related to the Durrells at all?! It is amazing what becomes normal, sometimes, isn’t it? Good story. And I am with you that little lambs are quite cute, but big sheep are rather more intimidating. Ever come across a sheep with diarrhoea? That is not a pleasant sight. I went off wool for a bit, after that…
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Totally off wool. Forever. The picture you paint is just…horrible…
And LOL…not related but “My family and other animals” is one of my favourite books!
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Yes, I love that book too. Sorry about the mental image…the smell was no better…..!
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I can imagine… having lived nearer sewage works and dog food factory…
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Oops, I forgot to ask – did you make the cute sheep in the Giant Daisy Land?
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No they’re the ones I mentioned from the Poundshop, and they’re about the size around of a 50p….(actually Mum just has REALLY large daisies…)
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Glad to see the happy ever after for Lindy – she sounds like quite a character :o)
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Oh yes, she had a happy life at the petting zoo… not sure if she got many “pets” though, lol π xxx
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Haha!π π xxx
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So much fun to read!
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Thank you very much π xx
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Wow, Lindy was quite a handful…love the part about you and your cat hiding from her!
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LOL…she was a terrible sheep but quite a good “dog”!
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Oh dear. Bad Lamb. Sorry for your troubles, but the story IS very amusing!
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Lol pleased you enjoyed it! Living with a sheep was a very formative experience… I haven’t eaten lamb in any shape or form ever since…
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Before I decided to become a vegetarian, I did love lamb. An aunt of mine couldn’t stomach it, claiming that it tasted “wooly”!
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Reminds me of my mother…she won’t drink full-fat milk as she says it tastes “cow-ey”…??
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Wow…okay, my wish to have a pet sheep just vanished. It’s gone. Forever. Sheep bite? I thought they were just fluffy clouds of adorableness with four legs sticking out.
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I’m really sorry to have disillusioned you…but better you know now – clouds have teeth!
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hahaha….this was hysterically funny to me. What we won’t do for animals. Some are not as benign as we originally thought. This was too funny Samantha.
Jean
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LOL pleased you enjoyed it! And yes..it’s often the ones that look the most innocent..or cutest..or butter-wouldn’t melt that are the fiercest and scariest!! π xxx
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What an amazing story! I was laughing and smiling the whole way through! There goes me thinking lambs are so cute and harmless but they only grow up to be big ol sheep. I can just picture the cartoon-style ramming through hedges and fences and what not right now! Hahaha xx
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LOL yes, literally like something out of Loony Toons… a sheep shaped hole in fence after fence! π xx
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Haha, what a handful sheep! Thank goodness I live in a city where we can’t have sheep as pet, otherwise I might be fooled by that innocent lamb look and end up having to call you for help after it grows into a sheep. π
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Oh no..no..you are definitely on your own with that!! Never mind wolf in sheeps’ clothing..a sheep in its own clothing is scary enough! π
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OH how lovely.. what a great tale and even though Lindy was a definitely not a ‘gentle little lamby’ .. it still sounds like a wonderful childhood.. And – it set you in good stead for dealing with ‘Lily’ – or maybe not seeing as you have to be rescued by your son…. Oh Oh .. Time to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’ (or maybe not!!). I wonder who would’ve won the battle of Dolly (alias Gremlin) v Lindy… yikes! x
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Ha ha ha! Or feel the wool feel the fur then run. Quickly…
It was certainly an interesting childhood, and to be honest..I think Dolly would have won π π xx
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Quite possibly – she was certainly ‘fearless’ amongst a herd of cows so 1 ‘gentle’ sheep – yep no match for a Gremlin! haha xx
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And yet she looks such a totally adorable little dog π x
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Oh yes – looks can be deceptive! xx
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I’m slightly intimidated by sheep. And rabbits. People underestimate their dark powers π
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Totally with you on sheep. Rabbits can also be unpredictable, I feel..:)
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Well, I’m a city girl, though we always had horses (and dogs and cats). When I first encountered a sheep it was bigger that I’d thought…much bigger. I still call male sheep ‘goats’ (just can’t bloody remember -my vet has told me they are called something when intact and something else when castrated). But a flock of sheep can also be called ‘a mob’. And we know all the negative connotations! Coincidence? I don’t think so…
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Ram, buck or tup…that’s with…and wether…that’s without. Funny how somethings stay with you although it’s highly unlikely I will ever need those terms again…I actually quite like goats. Far more civilised than your average mob of sheep…:)
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yep, all these (immediately forgotten) π I do like goats, they don’t stare at me ominously-they are friendly and amusing. And smelly…
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My older son doesn’t like goats-my mother took him to a petting zoo once and he had screaming hysterics claiming that the sweet little pygmy goats were trying to eat him!
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OMC that Lindy must have come out of the wrong nest, Samantha….MOL π We’re happy that all’s well that ends well after all π Extra Pawkiss π β€
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She was certainly not your usual cute Easter lamb … thank you π xxx
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They stare at me when I am out walking my dog. I know what you mean…
Thanks for following my blog, it is much appreciated.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I thought I’d come and have a look at your blog after Arlene mentioned you-Olie is lovely π
As for sheep, even now, I find them..unnerving! π
Thank you for commenting π
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