You haven’t been judged until you’ve been judged by an angry fat ewe who has just realized that you have not brought cookies.
For weeks now, I’ve been working on upleveling my shepherding game by trying to create a herd of sheep that will not only follow me to Hades and back when I have a bucket in hand, but one that will follow me even when I don’t have any obvious food accroutements. This has meant that I always try to have pockets full of cookies each time I enter a sheep pasture.
And it has worked!
I now have a herd of sheep that need only hear my voice and spot my hands in my pockets for them to come at me in a full “thundering herd” style moment (see comments for example). It’s as close as I will ever be to “godlike”—Farm Woman, Bringer of Cookies—and I admit, I rather like the feeling of power.
But…there’s always a BUT.
If I fail to bring cookies, like those times I’m in the pasture just to check fences or find the dog’s lost jolly ball for the umpteenth time, and I don’t bring cookies—THIS is is the face I get. The sheer disdain and anger on Sunflower’s face certainly tells her side of this story.
And so now I’m more than a bit afraid of too many cookie failures on my part. I’m well aware that my sheep, while small and hornless, are more than capable of grievous bodily harm to my person if they choose to work together. And Icelandic sheep are smart…like REALLY smart…the odds of them conspiring against me aren’t necessarily in my favor. Should the sheep become atheists, I’m in big trouble.