International Rescue

(I thought I'd better take back control of my blog, making 1800 Hours great again and all that.)

Here's what I've been thinking about this week:

1. Sheep are endless. 
2. Maybe I'll stay out of it in future. 

The silence of the lambs is not a thing. They make a wide variety of sounds, some surprising and some annoying. 

You rarely hear, "baa," but they do occasionally sound like those old-fashioned cylindrical toys that make animal noises when you turn them upside down. 

Not endless - yet

I was thinking about all this while walking the dog one day last week. It's taken me a while to get used to the fact that now and then lambs sound like newborn (human) babies in distresss. It was quite disturbing the first few times until my brain moved from, "Panic! Babies in danger!" to, "oh lambs."

On this particular morning, I was aware of one that sounded like an 86 year old who had been smoking 60 a day since she was 10. "Meh!" It sounded a bit angry but I suppose I would be, too, if I was a lamb in a field in Scotland in the rain. 

The dog and I continued our walk, waking up slowly (me, not her), chasing sticks (her, not me) and enjoying a quiet start to the day (neither of us is very good at playing well with others until at least after breakfast). 

Morning companion

Our usual walk is a 'there and back' so we passed the same field on the way home. 

"Meh!" I heard from the same spot in the same field from, presumably, the same lamb, "MEH!" I looked through the trees and saw a head sticking through the fence. The lamb looked less than impressed, as if to say, "you heard me on the way out and you're only just having a look now?!" 

Sheep with a better understanding of fences

After a quick phone call to Ivie - for encouragement/permission to approach the lamb - and tying up the dog, I skipped elegantly nearly made it over the soggy ditch. Grabbing an overhanging branch and scrambling up a small bank covered in briars, I got up close to the detainee. It took one look at me, cocked its head and stepped backwards in one move. I could have sworn it looked smugly over its shoulder as it skipped elegantly back to its mother. 

You can imagine the reception I got when I phoned Ivie back to explain what had happened. In between guffaws, he said, "aye, that's sheep for you."

"Meh," I replied.