“I’m sorry, Sweetie,” she said. “This really is, all there is.”
“It’s not enough for me, Mom. All we do is stand around and eat grass.”
She rubbed her face against his. “I know, baby. I know.”
The flock got together to try and figure out how to get the bloody bells off of their necks. They were going insane. Not only did the bells constantly make noise with every step they took, it they rang when others walked as well, so there was never any peace. They wanted to kill the farmer who put the bells around their necks, but didn’t see how that would solve their problem, even if it would make them all very happy. Someone suggested attaching a bell to HIS neck and that got a smattering of baaaaa’s.
After a half hour of grazing, Alberta, the black sheep in the group (she’s in the back, on the right), said they should bite the straps off of each other. All the sheep thought that was a great idea, but they were a bit twitchy taking advice from the black sheep in the family. After all, she never followed the rules and refused to consider herself a member of the HERD. She said she was an individual, not a group.
After much baaaing and walking around, they all agreed to try. So they started gnawing on the strap that held the bells around their necks. Eventually, they worked the leather into a thin enough strip that they could catch it on a branch and pull it until the strap broke.
The black sheep was happy to have helped. When everyone was bell free, she said she was striking out on her own, because if she went back to the barn, the man would just attach another bell to her neck and she wasn’t having any of it.
The other sheep considered that fact and decided to follow her. Sheep like to follow someone, it makes them feel safe, even if it’s not for their own good. The black sheep turned to the others and said, “This is what the government is all about. One side removes the bells, and the other side, not only wants to put the bells on us, they want to tighten the strap until we can’t breath. It’s time we have a third party, the freedom party, where sheep have a say in what happens to them.”
The sheep grunted and started walking after the black sheep, toward whatever was waiting for them.
Photo: Jürgen Scheeff
sheep in the yard
hard for a city kid
there were no
when I looked
out of my window
no fuzzy friends
not a single sheep
in any of the
standing on the
sitting on our laps
whatever we had
we would have loved
if we had
but all we ever had
Kevin is a leader and a guard sheep. Ever since he escaped from the pen he was kept in, and took the others with him, he guards the free flock. He’s very brave, very focused. He knows he can be killed with a bullet, but as long as the other can run, he’s willing to sacrifice himself for their right to live free.
Kevin is brave and well loved. He moves the flock often to avoid detection. He’s wily and intelligent. He will kill without hesitation. He’s not that terrified, follow the leader kind of sheep humans are used to. Not Kevin. Kevin’s for real.
Two years ago, I ran away from the farm that was holding me prisoner. It was the best decision I ever made. These are my free-born children. They’ll never be thrown down and shaved, or slaughtered for human consumption. As a mother, it’s my job to do whatever I can, to make the best possible life for my lambs. Getting as far away from humans, as I can, it the most important decision any animal can ever make.
If you will notice, there are no metal identifications pierced through our delicate ears, no bells, or straps, around out necks. We are free of humans and that’s all that matters.
Beauty is when everything is in the right place, so that you can’t help but fall in love with what, or whoever it is. Beauty calls to us, speaks our language. This gorgeous sheep is perfect in every way. Lovely eyes, and sweet ears, cute nose and the color of ecru snow. I’m in love and would definitely annoy her by kissing her all over her wonderful face.
“Uh, guys…there’s a weird sheep standing over there.”
“Why can’t you just graze like the rest of us?” asked Ba ba.
“I’m just sayin’ it’s not like any other sheep I’ve seen before. If you could stop eating for a second and look up you might see what I’m bleating about.”
“Fine,” said Mary, raising her head. “Hmmm, you’re right. That is a weird looking sheep. Maybe the humans made it.”
“What should we do?”
“Say hello, I guess,” she said.
The sheep all looked at the newcomer and said hello. The newcomer did not respond.
“I guess he really is a bit weird,” said Mary, going back to the meal.
That’s the problem. When you’re always used to seeing sheep, sometimes that’s all you ever see. When you’re used to being used by the culture you live in, you can’t see that things should be any other way.
“I think we should move to a warmer climate,” she said.
“You know we’d be too warm. It’s as if we’re wearing a million woolen sweaters. Think about that for a moment.”
“You’re right,” she signed. “I’m just tired of winter. “There’s a bird on me, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s Harold.”
“I don’t know why he stays here. He can fly anywhere.”
“If we could fly, we could do that as well.”
“We’re too heavy and we don’t have wings. Besides, you would get lost and you never stop to ask for directions.”
“That’s true. I bet things look different from high in the air,” he said. “It would be confusing.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“So we’re staying here?”
“Maybe we’ll go someplace different next year. ”
“We say that every year.”
“You’re right. Let’s just go.. I’m ready!”
“Great,” he said, turning toward the road. “Which way is warm?”
I’m Kevin, she’s Marge and this is our little girl is Suzi. We are sheep, for those of you who might not know. We do all the same things you do and have all the same parts, just extra legs. We have the same feelings you do as well, except for the violent ones. We cause no harm and ask nothing more than to be treated with respect and kindness. Unfortunately, those are the two things humans are unable to give to others. So we suffer and die by your hand.