Today at work I met a sheep in dog's clothing. This deluded farm creature had a thick, shaggy coat of wool and a blanket to wear on top of that (just like the many dogs in coats I saw today), but no, the barn would not do for her day at the vet. Dale the sheep made herself at home in a dog run, contentedly munching hay from her make-shift manger and watching people through the bars.
I never did get a good answer to why she was allowed indoors; she was quite a bit larger than most house pets. I heard people refer to her as a "lamb", but they were "kid"ding themselves (wait, that's a goat. Whatever. I'd love to see a goat in a dog kennel, too...). Dale was no Easter baby. She had substantial girth and would run you over in a stampede, make no mistake.
I did enjoy the barnyard smell of hay and earth that Dale brought into the building, especially compared to dirty, stanky dogs. She also appeared a lot calmer and quieter than many of the canine guests who seem to think manic barking is a great form of entertainment.
The unusual kenneling situation brought out the worst of puns in people. Actual overheard conversation: "Someone's here to see ewe." "What a baaaad joke." Maybe it was just the oddity of having an outdoor animal inside, but Dale brought out a lot of silliness in my coworkers. And all she had to do was stand there.
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5 comments:
Thanks for clearing up the many misconceptions regarding sheep indoors.
"Dirty"? "Stanky"? You forgot "highly offended." Here's looking at an estranged canine readership. The nerve...
Yeah, like dogs can read. If you don't have the courtesy, Feminist Chick, to sugar-coat my blog before reading it aloud to your pooches, then you only have yourself to blame. (And that's sugar-coat, not candy-coat. Don't forget that high altitude candy can be dangerous.)
Are you telling me that Murphy and Scout, cute though they may be, never find something gross to roll in in the backyard? My kitties, incidently, always smell very fresh indeed--except for tuna breath. They also never pester me to read blogs aloud to them.
As for "Sheep Johnson", I truly doubt that that's your real name. Sheep are even less likely to be able to read than dogs.
You make some truly dangerous assumptions. Where, pray, does it state in my comment that I am a sheep? It just so happens that my first name is Sheep (my middle name is Murglephoenstonk), and while I care deeply about the fate of my vacuum cleaner. Period. Full stop.
My dogs NEVER do such gross things. Sure, there was the incident when Scout brought us the head of a chipmunk, dropped it at our feet as if to say, "You're welcome!" Then there was the time at the dog park when Murph rolled in a pile of poo (I've never seen him so happy). Other than those, I have no idea why you think dogs are dirty. (See what fun you cat owners miss?)
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