Flock Stats: 24 Ewes
Number of Pregnant: 20
Non-Pregnant Elderly: Gramma Cheat and Gramma Piss Ninja
Non-Pregnant Yearlings: Ke$ha and Billy Madison
No lambs as of this evening, nor are any ewes separating themselves from the herd to watch the skies for a stork. Lady Friend has a different explanation of where lambs come from, but as I went to religious school for eight years, I refuse to believe her disturbing claims.
Gramma Cheat and Gramma Piss Ninja are the mothers and grandmothers of the herd, and through these two matriarchs, the progeny has mastered the Jedi trick of the Woolly Intimidation Stare. They used it to great effect during our visit to the pasture to check for lambs, and we ceded to the subliminal demands for grain. Then Gramma Cheat used her Jedi powers to win a thorough head scratching.
Ke$ha continues to be the most disgusting sheep alive, and the filthiest one in the pasture. While shaking her head to rid herself of her latest collection of debris, feces flew in a projectile fashion from her rear. Her exact opposite, Billy Madison believes that cleanliness is close to godliness.
One of the pregnant ewes has lost her ear tag, earning her the name Hole In Her Head. Lady Friend does not care for this name, but since she did not suggest a better one, Hole In Her Head it is. The light from the setting sun shined right through it. Hole In Her Head as well as several other pregnant ewes have swollen backsides, and crass Lady Friend offers this up as proof that deliveries do not arrive by stork. I can’t argue too much because she always polishes off the hoary old chestnut that SHE majored in BIOLOGY, while I majored in Greek and Latin.
Well, te Iuppiter dique omnes perdant, Lady Friend! I paid thirty thousand dollars for that completely useless degree!
So we wait and watch, and pray that this year comes and goes without a visit from The Grim Sheeper. We have had visits occasionally, summoning away little fellows like Aqua-Lamb, Trogdor, and The Burninator too soon, but last year saw only one grisly death in Pancake, who died crushed under his mother’s ass.
Lambing Season, here we come.