The Write Perspective

I rolled out of bed one morning and looked at the time: late. Right below it I saw the date: February 8. I sighed. The eighth was when my email was due to send  but because I am a terminal procrastinator,   the eighth had come and, no story. 

I got dressed, ate breakfast, and sat down to pound out a tale. I had several ideas, and attempted to make them  coherent . “If only I had an experience to write about!” I groaned. 

I imagined the scene in heaven, God laughing and saying, “OK squad! Let’s give her what she wants.”  

Mom came home and hollered, “Can you go check on the twins?”

“Wait, there’s twins?!” I hopped up excitedly, not about to ignore an excuse to do something besides writing lame beginnings to lame stories. 

Dad’s sheep had just started lambing the day before, and so far we had one baby. I ran outside to look at the adorable things and make sure the mother was caring for them. She seemed to be doing fine. I took a few darling photos then went back inside. 

  “Wow that’s cute.” Mom was also excited. “Now just make sure she keeps taking care of them.”

 I smiled, confident that my shepherding abilities, although never exercised, would be more than sufficient while Mom and Dad were gone the rest of the day. 

Mom was just leaving when we noticed one of the twins was not with its mother any longer. It was in the middle of the group, being bullied and shoved. One malicious sheep sniffed it, then deliberately knocked it over. I was outraged and Mom thought it would be wise to put the babies and mother into the shed for their safety and bonding.

“Alrighty! I got this.” I put my phone into my cape and strode into the pasture. I caught the deserted twin with no problems except scaring all the adults over to the other side, leaving the second baby unattended. I thought little of this and picked that one up as well. “I’ll  take these up to the shed, then bring the mama up there with them and it will be sweet and darling and I’ll have the cutest photos!” 

On one side of the pasture is a three- sided shed with a gate/corral around it. I put the babies in there with minimal issues, although the moisture and smell they left on me wasn’t exactly sweet and darling.    

Once they were placed in the shed I went back down to the herd to find the mom and serenely lead her to her babies. 

I walked toward the herd only to have them walk away from me. We walked to the farthest end of the pasture, the sheep casting furtive glances over their shoulders. Suddenly they flew into a panic and streaked back past me. I decided to let them do their thing as they were headed in the right direction, also I had zero chance of stopping them. 

 My thoughts went to the verse “My sheep know my voice and they follow me.” I decided maybe the reason they weren’t following me was because I wasn’t talking to them. Or possibly because all they had ever seen and heard of me was a form driving past them on the lane and the same form loudly blaming them for the uninviting aroma in the air. So I talked nonsense which did nothing except confuse and excite them further. 

Eventually we got up close to the shed and I herded most of them into the shed/corral. A few broke away and ran off but I analyzed the situation and came to the conclusion that mother must be in the group that went inside. 

They milled about but I couldn’t spot the mother. I walked into the corral with them. They milled faster. Still no mother. I looked outside and there she was: staring triumphantly at me from outside. the. corral.   

 I eased out and tried to slide behind her but by that time the sheep outside the corral decided to dash off to the other side of the pasture and despite my best efforts the mother joined. 

 I began the process all over and once again, walking  behind them the entire way around the pasture until we were back at the corral. I reached for my phone to call dad and ask him for the best plan of action but my phone was gone! 

 “Crap!!! I must have lost it while running and dodging after these freaking sheep!” Hearing this, the sheep grinned evilly. Refusing to let them win, I pretended this new development didn’t bother me and went into the corral to finish the job. One of the babies stayed right behind me but the other one got lost in the herd and when the herd started moving around I couldn’t find it. I frantically searched the ground under the white beasts’ hooves and saw a small form lying motionless on the ground. “NO!” I yelled. I snatched up the first baby and raced to the trampled victim. All the sheep flew out of the corral and to the other side of the pasture, while this time Lucy (derived from the male name “Lucifer”) leapt over the corral’s side. 

I knelt beside the lamb feeling awful. It was breathing hard with eyes squeezed shut. “It’s gonna die. I know it’s gonna die.” Overwhelming guilt settled on me and I knew I would need a lot of help to capture Lucy. Thinking I would call Steve to see if he was home, I reached for my absent phone only to remember it was lying in the pasture somewhere. I scanned the ground nearby to see if it was close but I couldn’t find it. I took Shana’s car to go find someone, anyone. 

 I drove to Steve’s and discovered that Steve wasn’t home but Krista saw the intense desperation in my eyes and came to help. 

Apparently normal sheep mothers will see their lamb and run over to it. Krista soon realized this was no common sheep we were dealing with when  we tried my version of herding them into the corral and convincing  Lucy to stay. It went about as well as when I tried, only this time I watched Krista attempt to keep the mother in while I kept the babies far away from any hooves. Lucy lunged over the side yet again and we were left standing in the corral gazing after her. 

We decided we’d use the gator and when we got close, we’d jump out and tackle the mother. This plan resulted in an exhilarating but fruitless gator ride. 

We finally cornered them and jumped out to catch her barehanded. I walked up to them and tried to channel my inner cutting horse but, alas, Lucy frolicked past me. We used the gator to corner them again and this time I let Krista take charge. Her fingers grazed Lucy’s back as she dove headfirst onto the ground. 

We looked at each other and laughed, but still had no better ideas so we repeated the process. This time I plowed into the flock and grasped Lucy’s neck, with Krista rushing  to my aid. We flipped her onto her back and held her hooves. 

“Okay, we can kinda  carry her, right??” I asked.

 “Yup,” Krista wheezed, “And we’ll put her and the babies into the trailer because she’ll probably just jump out of the corral if we put her in there.” 

We lifted Lucy by the hooves to carry her to the trailer. It was harder than one might imagine. I grabbed all four hooves and Krista bear-hugged her. We moved several feet. 

“How is she so fat??” Krista grunted. Lucy lay serenely, looking up at us. “I’ll just try to lift her from the top,” Krista set Lucy on her feet. Seeing her opportunity, Lucy kicked out and tried racing off but with Krista’s arms wrapped around her stomach and legs dragging out behind her, the sheep didn’t get far. Krista managed to hang on and flip onto her back,  bringing the sheep on top of her. There lay Krista, flat on her back, her arms clamped around an angry sheep whose flailing legs beat the air, only added to the theatrics.

I managed to help her and we struggled the remaining way to the trailer and dumped Lucy inside with her babies. It felt like criminal behavior to trap two innocent infants in a space with a drooling, manic adult so I left as quickly as possible. 

I thanked Krista profusely and went to bring water to the exhausted female sheep who persisted in shooting evil stares in my direction.    

 The lambs were nursing and everything seemed and I knew I needed to go find my phone so I could write about the experience and send the email in time. 

The herd of sheep all shifted nervously when they saw me enter, but I studiously ignored them.  

I walked back and forth across the entire area. “So if I can’t find my phone after I walk this entire place, what am I going to do?” I asked myself. “Maybe when it gets dark I can call it and see the light. Or I can go down to The Cookstove, order the biggest lotus money can buy, drink this all away, and then use one of my sisters’ phones to track it. Or I could make dad buy me a new phone in exchange for sacrificing my afternoon and sanity for his ridiculous sheep. Maybe I didn’t bring my phone out at all and it’s in the house.” 

I quickly dismissed the last idea because I knew no one could possibly be absentminded enough to do that. 

By the time I finished my walk through the pasture I was ravenous, exhausted, and harried. I went inside to wash my hands before I left to get food at The Cookstove and bring a phone back with me. I entered the house and there on the counter lay my phone. 

Shana and Shari steered clear of me at the store. It could have been  my hair that stood straight up from wind and frenzy. It may have been my tortured eyes, now opened to the dark side of caring for sheep. But most likely it was a result of the smells wafting around me from being much too close to three wooly creatures.