Shep the Sheep Dog
The long day was over, the sheep were back in the fold, and Shep the Sheepdog sat at his desk grumbling.
“What’s a sheepdog gotta fill out paperwork for, anyway? It isn’t enough that we watch the sheep over hill and dale, put our lives on the line to protect them from predators and make sure that they get back home for fodder time… No, we gotta fill out these papers required by the Sheepdogs’ Guild.” He picked up his pen and made some chicken scratches on the paper.
“If there is anything I dislike worse than paperwork, it’s… Well, I can’t think of what it is, so I must dislike paperwork a lot.” His pen seemed to be moving of its own accord, not paying any attention to Shep’s grumblings.
Shep’s paws continued filling out the daily forms while his mind drifted in and out of grumblings.
Fortunately, the more he did the mindless work the less he grumbled. Soon he was running through the activities of the day: the morning sheep count that almost put him to sleep; the morning walk to greener pastures; the keeping watch in the warm sun as the sheep grazed and baaed their way through the day; the soft, misty rainfall that came in the afternoon and the glorious rainbow that came with it. All in all it was a good day.
Shep took a deep breath, straightened up the paperwork he had just finished and got up from his desk. He was really looking forward to dinner tonight – chicken in chicken gravy.
He turned out the light to his office and walked to where the sheep were penned up. “One, two, three, four, five,” Shep knew all of the sheep by name, but counting was much quicker.
“Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…” Little Lola had her first lamb just a week ago – cute little thing, all wobbly and bright-eyed, everything new. Shep even thought he could see when the lamb was deciphering the flavors of different blades of grass. It really seemed to like the yellow dandelions; maybe that bespoke of the lamb’s nature.
“Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty…” Rodney the Ram – that guy was really funny. Shep thought that most of the sheep were of average intelligence, but Rodney really had something going on beneath that thick skull. Not only did he know some really funny jokes, but he was really good at slapstick. One time during rutting season, Rodney challenged another ram. Shep was never really sure if Rodney had realized that he was downhill of the much larger ram, but when they connected, Rodney rolled all the way down the hill and came up as if he meant to do it.
Shep chuckled to himself. “Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one…” Wait a minute. “Ninety-eight, ninety-nine…” Ewe-Jean… Where was Ewe-Jean? Shep sniffed the air taking in all of the sheeps’ scents. Ewe-Jean was not in the pen.
Shep burst through the barn doors and howled, “Ewe-Jean!” He hoped his lost sheep could hear that he was coming for her.
“What’s a sheepdog gotta fill out paperwork for, anyway? It isn’t enough that we watch the sheep over hill and dale, put our lives on the line to protect them from predators and make sure that they get back home for fodder time… No, we gotta fill out these papers required by the Sheepdogs’ Guild.” He picked up his pen and made some chicken scratches on the paper.
“If there is anything I dislike worse than paperwork, it’s… Well, I can’t think of what it is, so I must dislike paperwork a lot.” His pen seemed to be moving of its own accord, not paying any attention to Shep’s grumblings.
Shep’s paws continued filling out the daily forms while his mind drifted in and out of grumblings.
Fortunately, the more he did the mindless work the less he grumbled. Soon he was running through the activities of the day: the morning sheep count that almost put him to sleep; the morning walk to greener pastures; the keeping watch in the warm sun as the sheep grazed and baaed their way through the day; the soft, misty rainfall that came in the afternoon and the glorious rainbow that came with it. All in all it was a good day.
Shep took a deep breath, straightened up the paperwork he had just finished and got up from his desk. He was really looking forward to dinner tonight – chicken in chicken gravy.
He turned out the light to his office and walked to where the sheep were penned up. “One, two, three, four, five,” Shep knew all of the sheep by name, but counting was much quicker.
“Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…” Little Lola had her first lamb just a week ago – cute little thing, all wobbly and bright-eyed, everything new. Shep even thought he could see when the lamb was deciphering the flavors of different blades of grass. It really seemed to like the yellow dandelions; maybe that bespoke of the lamb’s nature.
“Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty…” Rodney the Ram – that guy was really funny. Shep thought that most of the sheep were of average intelligence, but Rodney really had something going on beneath that thick skull. Not only did he know some really funny jokes, but he was really good at slapstick. One time during rutting season, Rodney challenged another ram. Shep was never really sure if Rodney had realized that he was downhill of the much larger ram, but when they connected, Rodney rolled all the way down the hill and came up as if he meant to do it.
Shep chuckled to himself. “Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one…” Wait a minute. “Ninety-eight, ninety-nine…” Ewe-Jean… Where was Ewe-Jean? Shep sniffed the air taking in all of the sheeps’ scents. Ewe-Jean was not in the pen.
Shep burst through the barn doors and howled, “Ewe-Jean!” He hoped his lost sheep could hear that he was coming for her.