29 January 2015

Herbivores

Visitors who have only come to this humble blog in recent months will not know  that I am a part time sheep farmer. Well, perhaps that is a bit of an exaggeration as we only have two sheep. There's the mummy sheep called Beau and her faithful lamb Peep. They do such a good job of munching our grass that I rarely have to use a lawnmower during the growing season.

But it's not the growing season today. No way. It's the snowing season. For the third time this winter God hath chosen to wreak his wrath upon our sinful Sheffield suburb - dumping incalculable tons of the white stuff on our streets and homes. And here's how Beau and Peep looked at midday:-
PEEP Mum! The farmer's out with his camera again!
BEAU Baaah! Can't you see I'm eating grass? Get your head down Peepo and get munching!
PEEP But there's all this snow Mum! I can't even see any grass!
BEAU Baaah! I've told you before. Shove the snow away with your snout. There's plenty of nice sweet grass underneath.
PEEP But I am fed up of grass Mum. Why can't we eat other stuff?
BEAU Like what?
PEEP You know - burgers and turkey twizzlers and cod in batter.
BEAU Baaah! There's a good reason why not you stupid lad!
PEEP Why?
BEAU Because we sheep are exclusively herbivorous mammals. Now get munching! We've got five more hours of grazing to do today.
PEEP Mum?
BEAU What now?
PEEP I love you.
BEAU Baaaaaah!

7 comments:

  1. How sweet! Would you also like a little white dog to keep them company - name of Toby? Go on, you know you do.... ;)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Okay Jenny - if he is perfectly still like my sheep and never poops.

      Delete
  2. There's no business like snow business, is there?

    ReplyDelete
  3. I did mention that you should put your coat on and go outside. Did I mention that you should get a little farther than the back yard? Are you taking medication? Perhaps a nice detox would clear your head a bit! Exercise! That's the key. Try a few snow-angels, then build a snow-lamb. If that doesn't fix you up right, maybe an igloo. Poor, poor Mr. Pud.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Your kind understanding is like balm to my troubled soul ma'am.

      Delete

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