Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Wow.” Nina runs her fingers through the short wool. Dinah is a sweet sheep—one of the older ones. When I bought the flock, I got them all at once from someone who wanted to get out of having them, and I got a mix of young and old. I don’t know their exact age for sure, but I’d say Dinah is one of the more senior sheep. The younger ones actually look to her to see how to behave, and she’s always so calm and friendly. It’s no wonder she went straight over to Nina. “She’s so soft.” That look of wonder on Nina’s face sparks something inside my soul again.
Gerald, who isn’t calm or patient, comes running up to me. I think he’s going to headbutt me because he has that devious glint in his eyes, but then he stops and lowers his head to rub it against me instead. I stroke his black face. I don’t know what their previous owner had going on, but there’s way more than just one type of sheep here. Gerald is the only one with a dark face, and he’s also a freaking giant compared to most of the others. He bleats affectionately as I rub his closed eyes.
“Aww. He likes it.” Nina does the same thing to Dinah, who leans into the pets. “I can’t believe they let you do this.”
“When I first got them, they wouldn’t, but they trust me now.”
“But they don’t even know me.”
That’s right. They don’t. Maybe they can sense a gentle soul when they see one. Or maybe they want to borrow a little bit of Nina’s sunshine for themselves while soaking up the rays from the sky.
“I think animals can sense a gentle soul.”
Dinah finally gives a loud bleating baaaaaaaaaa like she’s in full agreement with that. “She’s a very special sheep.” Nina’s hands massage her ears again. “Which ones are…oh. Never mind. I was going to ask which ones you get the cheese from, but I think I can tell. The ones with the lambs running around?”
“That’s right.”
“But you…what do you do with them? I know people sometimes keep sheep for…for meat.”
“Arrgh!” I close Gerald’s ears before he hears. “Not here.”
“But pretty soon, the sheep are going to overrun the place if you don’t keep the males and females separate.”
“They don’t breed like rabbits or anything, and I have lots of land. I can always build a bigger barn.” She’s probably right, though. Unless a few sheep go for the castration operation, I’m going to be overrun here. She might have a point. “I’ll look into it.”
“Okay. But then you wouldn’t have any more milk, right? If you don’t have more lambs?”
She’s also right about that. “I can find someone else selling sheep cheese if I’m hard up for it.”
“Are you sure? It doesn’t seem that common.”
“There are lots of farms around here. Plus, I’ll still have lambs for a while. I won’t have to worry about that.”
“Maybe you can just keep one male, uh, intact, but then what if he was naughty and jumped all the ladies? He’d have to be separated, and that wouldn’t be any fun for him. He’d probably be so lonely.”
“Sometimes, I do separate them. As I said, I have lots of land. The mothers and babies often need their own space. Everyone is a little bit older already and doing well, but I generally do have them by themselves for the entire afternoon and, of course, in their stalls at night, where they have their privacy.”
“That sounds like a lot of work.”
“I don’t have a job anymore. And this isn’t work. It’s a passion. I enjoy having these animals.”
“Do the chickens just roam freely all day long?”
“For the most part, yes. They have their coop they can go into. Shaggy keeps any predators away, so I haven’t lost one yet. I think I’m unique in that, but this area doesn’t have a lot of foxes and wolves that I’ve seen.”
“And the cats?”
“They keep the mice population down. And having the chickens roam freely helps keep down bugs like ticks.”
Nina’s face blanches. “Oh my god. Ticks? You have those here?”
“Generally not this late into the summer, but occasionally.”
She does a little dance on the spot, high-stepping each leg. She found a pair of vintage cowboy boots at the thrift store yesterday, and she paired them this morning with a frilly yellow skirt trimmed in lace that looks totally handmade. It fits her well, but it doesn’t match at all with the T-shirt with the super scary clown face on it. She laughed at my expression when she came out of the bedroom after I suggested that we go out and pet the sheep. I’m horrified by clowns, and she admitted she is too, but she had to get the shirt.