My Sheep played an April Fool’s prank on me

My Shetlands played an April Fool’s prank on me

            which proves they are geniuses with a sense of humor

April 1, 2016 started out like any other Saturday. We relaxed in bed listening to the radio for a while after waking, then arose to get ready for the day. As usual I started by taking my husband, Meredith’s blood pressure. Then panic set in. It was high, very high – as high as the day he had his stroke a few years back! What to do! Cal 911? Our doctor would not be available until Monday. “Let’s not panic,” Meredith reassured me,”Maybe it’s an anomaly. Let’s have breakfast, feed the sheep, then reevaluate things. If need be ,we can go to the emergency room and check it out.”

After breakfast I headed for the barn. I fed everyone, in fact doling out extra portions, since we had decided to go to the hospital, and an emergency room visit can prove to be a lengthy affair – all day perhaps. As I was finishing up, it occurred to me that since the ewes had been cooped up in the barn for the past three days due to rainy weather, why not let them out, so they can enjoy the sun for a change. I entered the driveway paddock (so named because it includes part of the driveway) and crossed over and double checked the big gate that closes off the paddock from the barn road and the world beyond. I came back and opened the dutch doors, and all of the girls bounded out kicking up their heels with glee. I then proceeded on through the door into the barn to double check the water, then exited through the side door and on to the house.

The trip to the emergency room went remarkably well. There was hardly any wait. By the time we saw the doctor, the blood pressure was at an acceptable level. We were released with the advise to take his blood pressure an hour after his morning meds, as opposed to first thing upon rising.

We arrived home around mid afternoon, and I proceeded across the side lawn to the barn. As I crossed the lawn, I looked down and remarked to myself, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that our sheep were out here dancing a jig in the grass.” as I examined the little cloven hoof prints in the ground, still soft from the previous days’ rain. I reasoned if not the sheep, perhaps a herd of midget deer, or a doe brought over her triplet fawns to rummage through the vegetable beds. That settled, I continued on to the barn.

The ewes were all hanging out by the big gate to the barn road – as if waiting for some thing, That was curious, I’ve never seen them do that. What drew their attention over there? Perhaps our neighbor had stopped by for a visit with her dog. I called out to them, but nobody moved; they were just lounging around.

I started toward them again. Then stopped in disbelief and I must say, horror. They were on the wrong side of the gate! They were on the outside waiting to be let back in! I raced over and opened the gate. It was still firmly fastened just as I had left it. The girls all marched through and trotted across the paddock and into their stall in a dignified single file. As they passed, a quick head count showed all 16 present and accounted for.

I refastened the gate, then inspected the fencing around the paddock for indications of a breech. The non-climb horse fence was still tightly stretched and all intact. For the girls to have made their way from the paddock to the outside of the big gate was no easy feat. The barn road is fenced in on both sides from the paddock and big gate to the road – some 100 feet. To have ended up on the back side of the gate, the girls had to have made their way all the way up to the road, either through a wooded area or across the lawn, then up the road to the entrance to the barn road and back down to the gate. All without losing anyone on the way!

I decided to start with the hoof prints on the lawn. As I left the paddock thru the side gate, it hit me. Earlier that morning I had entered the paddock thru the side gate, but I had exited by way of the barn. Hence the side gate had been closed but not latched. My clever ewes had discovered this and made their way out – even closing the gate behind them.

The soft damp earth from the previous rains made it fairly easy to reconstruct their adventure by way of their hoof prints. For a while they had cavorted over the side and front lawns. Apparently the grass had not yet recovered sufficiently from its long winter slumber to hold their attention for long. From our yard they had proceeded out to the road where their little foot print were clearly visible on the road’s sandy shoulder. They had first headed south away from the barn. Then after a while changed their minds and headed back north. Which is just as well, because our neighbors to the south have mentioned several times that they have seen Black Bears on their property.

I followed their hoof prints back up along the soft shoulder of the road, and past our yard, along the Poplar wooded area between our yard and the barn road. When they got to the barn road, instead of turning down it, as I had expected, they continued across it and past the little Maple wood on the other side. There is one neighbor between our farm and the County Road that winds down Jericho Hill to the village. The road that our farm is on is fairly quiet; in fact 30 minutes or more can elapse between cars. On the other hand the County Road has a speed limit of 55 mph and big trucks! They may have dallied on our neighbor’s yard (whose grass was much greener than ours), but the tell tale trail of hoof prints marched down our road’s shoulder toward the bigger road. Just the thought of my girls on that road made me quake.

We live at the top of Jericho hill, the second highest hill in the county. Our road joins the County road just shy of the crest of the hill. A car or truck barreling up the backside of the hill at 55 mph would not see the junction of our road until after it cleared the crest; at which point it would have only seconds to avoid anything in its path. Even though I knew that all of my girls were now safe in the barn, the thought of my innocent lambs putting themselves in so much danger was quite terrifying!

I followed the trail right up to the stop sign where the two roads meet. There they stopped. I could tell that they stood there looking down the hill where the road descended down to the village 3 miles below. All of their little toes were pointed in that direction. I looked down, imagining how it might have looked to them. It was a little like looking down a roller coaster run from its high point. Is that what sent them back home? Perhaps The Angel of the Good Shepherd whispered in their ears, “The road to high adventure is not all that it is cracked up to be. Go back home and wait for your folks.” Then again, perhaps a big truck roared by and blasted its horn at them. At any rate, there they all were, quietly waiting at the gate when we got back.

Some times I wonder just who it was that brought the whole flock back home without losing any stragglers. Could it have been stout hearted Miss Marple? Maybe it was emotional Natasha, or perhaps it was Sky, who time and again has proved herself to be the wisest of our ewes.