It all started very innocently, if dramatically, by a mass breakout of the ram lambs (but not my favourites : Curly, Curly’s Brother or Wills), from the Little Field, through the thick spiny hedge, on to the main road. Alerted and aided by our favourite Jewsons delivery man, and concerned passers by, we managed to herd the rest of the misfits back into the field with copious amounts of sheeep food. By awesome detective work (wool on barbed wire) we located the hole that they had made in the hedge and set about effecting repairs. The small ram lambs kept sidling back to see if they could escape again once our backs were turned but were easily shooed away once we had thrown hammers and sickles at them! But there lurked a far greater danger in waiting. An evil brown monster bent on trouble. Like a perverted dirty old man he ambled along the hedge line supposedly minding his own business but obviously pitching for a fight. Being shooed away was not in his game plan as he took the initiative to mount a full scale full on attack. This involved running at us full pelt with horns and knee breaking boulder sized thick head at the ready to do serious damage. Thank fully , Paul is not only a master gardener but fully versed in the wily arts of matedor cape swirling. (all learnt from Strictly Come Dancing ) and was able to deflect the onslaught by dexterous Barbour jacket moves which unnerved the ovine tornado bearing down upon us. A couple of passes and he managed to catch hold of his lethal horns and manhandle him unceremoniously to the ground and sit on him. So far so good but sitting on him was like sitting on an unexploded bomb as the heaving mass of testosterone fuelled muscle quivered in rage. To avoid counter attacks from the young bucks I managed to get them all into the garden field and then grabbed hold of a horn each and dragged the fuming mass of machismo in with them.
Shaken but not stirred we carried on to check the ewes.
But dark clouds were brewing and it was only a matter of minutes before the boys (led by evil personified , Othello), had broken out of the field again and were up at the house garden looking for trouble. In fact looking for a dear old unsuspecting pensioner, Pat, my mum. Ignoring mum and her enticing bucket of food the devil incarnate knocked her to the ground and set about beating her up. Being a tough old farmers wife , mum managed to grab his horns and drag herself up and away from the battering to alert us to his antics.
Another sackful of sheep food and all were enticed back into their stronghold again.Field now only to be entered with armed bodyguard, cape and pitchfork. But the harsh future is writ large as the date for execution draws nigh .
It was only later when we discovered what had happenend during his sex fuelled rape and pillage ploy as the poor old sheep sculptures will testify. Horribly abused by hooves and wilful uncontrolled lust they lay scattered and abused on the ground.
