I’m Not a Cattle

I ran across this little piece that I never posted to the blog. It goes back to 2008, when the sheep were lambs, and we only had Forrest to care for...

Today was Forrest’s first day to be alone outside in his fancy garage enclosure. We arranged a cattle panel in front of the garage doors which makes an area for him to come outside, but have the ability to retreat inside if he wants.

A little before it was time to take George the cat to the vets, I placed Forrest in his enclosure, and he readily settled down in the warm sun in the doorway. Good, I thought. This is going to work out perfectly. Assured that he was safe and sound, George and I drove away.

About an hour and a half later we returned, and I looked into the garage as I drove up. Hmm, where was Forrest? Perhaps he was hiding behind the door? Something to the right caught my eye, and there was the little darling curled up on the back doorstep. He jumped up right away and came down to the car.

Baaaa ba baaa, said he, which I interpreted to mean, hey, I’m not a cattle, I’m a sheep. If you want me to stay in there, you are going to have to treat me as the superior critter I am.

Sixteen feet of two by four wire later, his cattle panel has been converted to a lamb panel.

Sorry, Forrest. No disrespect intended.