Prison Break for Sheep!

The winner of The Hallowed Hunt was Ruby Davis! Ruby, congratulations. Send me your snail mail address and I’ll get your book in the mail.

Now, let’s talk about sheep. Never in my life have I seen more sheep than in Ireland. Not only will you see them grazing in the meadow, but you’ll find them alongside the road, blocking traffic, and grazing on a mountaintop. It’s the mountaintops that made me nervous. You know the falling rocks signs that you see near mountains? My husband and I decided that there needed to be a falling sheep sign. You know, something to warn the tourists that poor Bessie decided she just couldn’t take it anymore and it was time to join the big mutton stew in the sky.

After we toured Carrickfergus, we drove to Slieve Croob, an area near the Mourne Mountains. It was gorgeous territory, filled with purple mountains, vast meadows, and sheep. At the inn where we stayed, I was amused by the sheep across the street. I watched as they studied the fence, poked their heads outside the wire, and managed to finagle themselves out of the pen. I could almost imagine their conversation.

Sheep #1: Run for it, Joe. This is our chance! Dublin, here we come. Fame and fortune: it’s ours, all ours!

Sheep #2: Um, dude, it’s dinner time. And the food’s in there.

Sheep #1: But this is our big break!

Sheep #2: Yeah, I’m kinda hungry. Think I’ll go back in.

Sheep #1: Don’t do it, Joe! We can make it!

The sheep were the dumbest creatures I’ve ever seen. They kept trying to squeeze their heads back in the gate, maa-ing with frustration. A few times they tried to push back through the wires, but with no luck. I was laughing at their efforts, and they gave me an indignant look as if to say, “Well, don’t just stand there! Let us baaaaaaaaack in!”