Friday, June 10, 2011

Snappy Times

Hello, again.  It seems as if my brain is taking a writing hiatus. I hope you don't mind.  One day I'll have thoughts again and will tell you about them.  

For now, these are snappy times.



The sheep are interested in me only when I am shaking my can.

(Perverts!)

But really "shaking my can" consists of an old Folgers tin filled with sweet-feed which is like crack cocaine to those sheared beasts.  

They hear me calling "Sheeps!"
*shakeshakeshake*
and they. come. running.

Although they don't look like a force to be reckoned with, have one of them step on your toe once and you will know what it means to fear the stampede.  It isn't like they line up in single file formation either.  Sheep are neither clean nor orderly.  But they are cute and they let me pet them while they are eating so I will deal with a lose toenail or two. 



Look at that long neck.  She's a virtual Grace Kelly of the sheep world.  Except that Princess Grace did not eat grass and poop where ever the urge hit her. 


Helicopter ears. 

 One of my favorite pictures to date.  Pretty much sums up how sheep view personal space. 

 They are sweet, no?!

 And mildly suspicious.

My name is Blossom.  Nice to meet you.



In case you've gotten to this point and muttered out loud to yourself, "I wonder how those baby ducks are doing?"  I have some answers for you.  As of this morning, we are down to 2 when we started with 6.  I have some theories about this, reader. 

Our "baby ducks" are really closer to being pre-teens now.  And we all know how terrible pre-teens are.   Maybe it got to be too much having them around eating up all the bugs, Wonder Bread scraps or gluten free bagels that tasted terrible and grew mold in exactly 3 days from the date of purchase. 

Perhaps they were sent off to boarding school,
Or sent down to the pond to be with the guys,
Or just maybe we have a fox.  
And Charlie is sleeping on the job.
Again.
And every other day that ends in "y".

It's a reality of caring for animals that are not under your constant watchful eye.  I would bring them inside but they do not care for the human variety.

Happier [less dead] times.