Horse-sitting Adventures: The Flying Sheep

Back when I was tossing around the idea of writing, my mother’s constant refrain was that I should write a collection of the amusing (true) stories from when we used to horse sit for a friend. Now that I’m seriously tackling my writing, I actually sat down and wrote those stories. In the long run it’s a good idea I didn’t pin my hopes on them, because the stories taken together amount to less than eleven pages in total. However, since part of the purpose of this blog is to get people interested in my writing, I’m going to post them here for free. What better way for people to determine if they like what I write than to offer some free samples?

We horse sat for this friend for over a decade, so the cast of the stories changes quite a lot. I will try and write a more thorough intro later, but for now I will leave you with a story that doesn’t involve the main animal cast and has garnered a laugh from everyone who’s ever heard it:

Some years the farm family would be temporarily expanded to include a small herd of sheep. This time around they were being kept in a small enclosure half in the barn and half out. We were assured we’d just have to toss them some hay and refill their water. One day, we walk out of the barn to head to the paddocks, when I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye. One of the sheep is slipping out under the fencing and into the open area along the paddocks that leads to the arena. I point out that one of the sheep has escaped and we set about trying to catch it. I move around and cut it off from going up to the arena, so it runs back down the hill, past Mom and into the open door of the barn. Mom follows it in, hoping to corner it in an open stall. The sheep realizes it has no way out except back past Mom. Just as I come back down to try and support Mom, this rather small sheep gathers its courage and launches itself into the air trying to get over (or around) Mom. In an impressive display of reflexes, Mom grabs it by the wool as it flies by and bundles it into her arms. Defeated, the sheep freezes. She holds it while we contemplate how to get the sheep back in the enclosure. The fencing goes six feet in the air, Mom is too short to get the sheep over, and even if she could it would no doubt have been hurt by the fall. I realize the only way in was how it got out in the first place. I lift up the bottom of the fencing, trying to stay as far back as possible. The other sheep helpfully cower in the in-barn half of the enclosure. The escapee, seeing its route to safety, gladly scrambles out of my mother’s arms and back into the enclosure. Mom spent the rest of the morning finding things to nail down the bottom edge of the fence.

As an added bonus, one of the many sheep pictures I have drawn over the years:

42blogsizeCheck it out in my Deviantart gallery.

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