Dave and I arrived home to find the gate lying on the ground and the ram pasture empty. Rats! Escaped animals always meant forging through the poison ivy, circling the pasture fences and when we finally found the sheep, patiently encouraging them through the woods and around the perimeter of the pastures until they reached a gate.
At least this time we were only missing the three rams, not 50 ewes and half a hundred lambs. Dave walked south and I walked north up through the woods, just like we have done many times over the years. But the big difference this time was that we both had our cell phones. I had just trudged through the first poison ivy patch when my phone rang.
“I’ve got ‘em.” Dave said. “We’re heading north toward the gate to the home pasture.”
I ran back to the house. If I stood smack in the middle of the drive way, the rams might turn left when they came out of the woods, onto the path to the home pasture, instead of continuing on up the driveway.
They ambled into view, placidly turned left and continued into the home pasture where they immediately began grazing. Perhaps they were just as glad to be home as we were to have them home.
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