Now You See Them...

This time last year the field at the back and around the side of my house had approximately a hundred sheep in it (the ewes still had the lambs with them, you understand.) And then they disappeared in the autumn and the field was empty through the winter.

A few weeks ago they returned, but there were only fifteen of them. That’s a big reduction, so what had happened to the rest? I don’t know, but shortly afterwards four young cows took up residence – three small black ones and a slightly bigger brown one. The fifteen sheep were a bit suspicious at first, but soon settled down and bucolic peace was restored.

But not for long. The sheep disappeared again but the young cows stayed on. And then the cows disappeared and the sheep returned, only that time their number had reduced to three. Just three sheep. They looked a little lost and forlorn to me, but I supposed they had each other for company and so I wasn’t unduly concerned.

It didn’t end there, however. The sheep disappeared again and were replaced by just one small black cow which looked very lonely, poor lad. He wandered alone and forlorn, seeking shelter from the hot summer sun for a few days, and then became uncomfortably conspicuous by his renewed absence. Two days ago the three sheep were back, but I haven’t seen them since and the field is presently empty.

That sort of thing matters to me, you know, because if there’s one thing that makes me concerned to the point of feeling fractious, it’s any suspicion that animals – and little humans – aren’t happy and settled. Call me oversensitive if you like, but that’s how it is.