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On Sheep

Everyone knows they are a bit lacking in the brain department, so if I told you that there was a sheep with it’s head stuck in the fence nearly every day I was away this week you might not be surprised.

We arrived in Herefordshire too late on Monday afternoon to see the sheep that got its head stuck in the electric fence to receive continuous electro convulsive therapy: I am sure it feels much less depressed now. Whether that was the same sheep that got its head stuck the following day in the gate, I’m not sure and again which sheep it was that got all tangled up in barbed wire early the following morning is a moot point. On Thursday we had no sheep stuck anywhere at all – they had been moved into a big field nearby – bliss. Then on Friday we had a double whammy: one sheep stuck on its back with its legs waving in the air like a beetle and, a bit sadly, one dead sheep. The dead one had had a cough for a day or two, the vet had been called that morning and given it some medication and it had died in the afternoon. You don’t get your money back in these instances. Fortunately, the overturned sheep was righted by one of the children.

I tell you, next time you enjoy a lamb chop just consider how much manpower has gone into producing that meal. By my reckoning each beast will have had to be rescued at least a hundred times by some poor farmer before he or she turns a measly profit on the animal. Buy from your farmer direct if you can because it sure as hell isn’t Mr Sainsbury who treks out day after day to free the thicko sheep for your plate.

One that got stuck earlier

A sensible shepherd