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| This is Sheila, during the Spring of her last year. |
A couple of years after Daniel died, a new family moved in to a tall farmhouse, about four miles from here. They had a number of children and were determined, just as we had been, to provide their children with positive experiences with animals, and skills as to how to care for a variety of them. The fields adjacent to their home, at that time, were filled with brown sheep. A few times that week, I drove past the home while on errands. On one of the times I drove past, I noticed a smaller sheep walking along the road, about a quarter mile from the field of sheep itself. I routinely keep a new leash in my glove compartment, which is usually used to rescue lost dogs I see from time to time, in our rural area. This time I parked at the side of the country road, approached the sheep, and wrapped the leash around his neck and gently secured it while talking gently to him. He happily followed me back to the house with the sheep, which is where I had imagined he'd come from. The lady who answered the door was watching children as the mother had just come home from the hospital with a new baby. She struggled to find a leash so that I could have mine returned as she relocated the sheep.
When I next had occasion to talk to the family and ask them how the mom and new baby were doing, I learned that it was the mother-in-law who had collected the sheep that day. The man thanked me for returning the sheep and asked me if I would like to take home a couple of the sheep. I wouldn't normally have wished to take on two sheep, but with several of our kids in college, we had recently decided not to breed alpacas any longer, and we thought Cammie, our youngest alpaca, might enjoy a young sheep as a surrogate baby. We were happy to take on a second sheep because ideally, animals should always be housed with at least one other of their own species.
The man charged us a nominal fee for the young male sheep, and the same for his mother. He told us that they were Cotswold sheep, in fact, they were even rarer than that. They were Black Cotswold sheep. He was parting with them because both of them tended to be escapists, and because he had more than enough animals suitable for breeding. We brought them home, in a regular car with tarpaulins put down, to pastures set up for our alpacas, and to our family of about five alpacas from our original herd, and never had any challenges with their attempting to escape. I later decided that both Sheila, and her son, were brighter than normal sheep and that this is why they had tended to challenge restrictions in their original home. At first, they were kept separately from the alpacas, and then after a suitable introduction and time spent to make sure everyone was well, Sheila, the female sheep was housed with some alpacas. The younger male sheep, which we named Tesla for his superior intellect, was housed with Cammie, our prize alpaca. Everyone got along well.
Almost ten years have passed since Sheila and her son came to live with us. They have been trouble free and gentle creatures, and great companions to our alpacas. As time went on, and our alpacas reached twenty to twenty-four years, one by one, most of the alpacas died. This left more and more pasture and more solitude to Sheila. Earlier this year when I was considering the routine worming that all animals on a farm should have considered, I realized that Sheila was already beyond normal life expectancy. I realized how lucky we have been to have this lovely sweet sheep with us each day. She was able to see her son Tesla daily, as part of his pasture was adjacent to hers.
Sheila continued a calm and peaceful life until a day last week, when she seemed a little slower than usual to rise as I approached. We made sure we spent plenty of time with her that day. The following day, she had Cheyne-Stokes respirations, and she died peacefully later that morning, while we were present.
Sheila was the recipient of a typical farm funeral just outside the paddock with all of the animals, including her son Tesla present. We were so lucky to have this dear creature as a companion to us and to our other animals.
