If Sheep Could Only Talk
Who knows where the sheep go at night? The gate is always
open and they are in groups of five or six, and this is going to sound strange,
they appear to be gossiping—talking over the nights’ doing, as it were.
When they see me--they spread out—away from their groups. I
wouldn’t be surprised if they began whistling to show that nothing was going on
but I know better.
I asked Butch, my next-door neighbor, (if you can call ten
acres away next door) if he was having the same problem with his sheep but he
laughed and asked if I thought they had night jobs or were going to the truck
stop and putting out?
There’s no doubt that Butch will be at the barber shop
tomorrow getting a trim and spreading the word of my sheep problem and thoughts.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
So I stayed up last night with the house lights off and the
exterior lights on and I saw Woolly, our sheep dog, the same off white color as
the sheep, amble over to the gate, stand up on his hind paws, and push the
locking bar open with his nose. Then he pushed the gate open and slow trotted
back to his usual spot.
One by one the sheep came out and formed groups of five or
six and stayed that way until the morning. It’s clear that Wooly’s the problem
and not the sheep so I think I’ll call the smithy to come over and put a sheep
dog resistant latch on the gate.
No sheep out in groups the next morning and the gate was
closed but the coral was open and the horses running around the field with
Wooly lying down watching. I know he’s sending me a message, but I don’t know
what it is yet.
Paul Beckman has four story collections, a novella
published and a new collection, ”Kiss Kiss” due out in early 2018.. He’s had
over 350 of his stories published in print, on line, and via audio. Paul runs
the monthly FBomb NY flash fiction reading series at KGB. He had a micro story
selected for the 2018 Norton Microfiction Anthology.
Tags:
Short Fiction