Echo

That's his name. My sheep. One sheep. He echoes. He's not stupid, but not exactly not stupid, either, compared to the goats. Umm.. maybe limited?  Echo came here because I had not had a sheep since a was about twelve, and I guess I had forgotten what it was like to communicate with sheep. So, he's been here for maybe ten years, making big noises about feeding time, not being terribly interested in walking on a leash, but along with the dogs bravely charging coyotes.

Echo is out today, out of his pen. I am doing a nice thing for him. Spring grass is in. Sheep graze, right? Dragged him out from his pen and let go. Sheep goes running to all the places where feed has been in the past - feed provided by me, or feed being there as in new growth on trees I want to keep. Twenty laps around each tree and a few drags to the back forty with a rope, Echo finally seems to have found the greener pastures out of sight of his past haunts but within earshot of home.   Bliss.  This was so much fun that I think I will spend all day tomorrow doing the same thing.  And the next day.

You get it...

Right?


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