I
remember Dad had Dorset Horns,
stud stuff with pedigree,
They
looked down haughty noses at
mere kids like Sis. and me,
But
we pulled 'em down a peg
or two, showed 'em who was
Boss,
Though
if Dad had seen our antics
he'd have been - put mildly - cross!
He
used to take those snooty
beasts around the Agi. Shows,
Blue
ribbons and certificates hung
on our walls in rows
Proving
that they really were the
top reps. of their breed
Worth
the many patient hours spent
teaching them to lead.
Fleeces
batted into shape, teeth and
faces cleaned,
Hoofs
and horns so polished you'd
think them Mr. Sheen'd!
To
keep them quiet and well
behaved, Dad haltered them and
led
Them
daily to be tethered on
grass behind the
shed,
All
farm kids had chores to
do, our last chore for the
night
Was
to check the water dishes
and see the sheep were
right.
The
love of my life those
days was never boring sheep,
I
lived and breathed for horses,
awake and when asleep!
I
eyed those placid ewes and
rams, struck by a sudden
notion
No
sooner thought than promptly
put into exciting motion!
Under
my instruction little sister
counted down
As
I jumped upon each woolly
back, my feet just clearing
ground,
Surprised
and stunned my mounts stood still,
shock made them sort of freeze
Before
exploding into action on jolting, stiffened knees,
They
plunged and twisted, threw themselves
and leapt a hundred ways
Would
have out-bucked even Chainsaw
(and on his better days!)
Hand
held high I yelled 'Yippee'
and
vowed to ride or bust,
Picked
me up and tried again
each time I hit the dust.
-
- Dad was sorely disappointed next
time he trod the ring,
Came
home empty handed, didn't win
a thing!
The
judges wanted explanations, it seemed
those weary sheep
Kept
leaning on the haybales and
falling fast asleep
Twitching
uncontrollably, -- they also asked
Dad why
The
poor things almost went beserk
when children wandered by !
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