That was probably one of the most wonderful surprises since moving here, and there have been some serious contenders for that prize. Tom stopped by to drop off a book and said that the shepherd pays him for them to graze. I wonder how it works when they breach the fence and come into our yard. We appreciate the hand with the weeds, but will we also get paid?
Dogs are so great because they are curious and earnest in their desire to explore. Leashed and well heeled, the Hubs took Sammy out for introductions, especially to the low volt but definitely making a point electrically charged fence.
However.
That lesson was lost once Sam's friends arrived for Christmas and one of the family innocently let them out for their constitutional. The pack wasn't sure what the sheep were, but they intended to find out. They were out and in the back and rocketed through the electric fence before we hit the porch.
The sheep ran for it, of course, and the dogs following a little ways until they noticed something more interesting underfoot. Mud. Gooey, fresh from the rain, perfectly smelly and interesting mud.
Oh man, first the snouts shove in and then they rub their faces and necks in it, and before long plop on their sides and do the back roll thing. All we mortals could do was stand by and weakly holler to them to return.
Getting back through the fence proved more of a challenge, and the Divine Miss S got a shock or two by the sounds of the yip. Fortunate for us they all returned and there is a utility sink in the laundry rm, plenty of space to accommodate a variety of sizes of four legged mudballs, and they took turns.
Once done, with dog cookies and brushings out of the way, and everyone nearly dry, we all curled up on the sofa to watch Miracle on 34th Street, the black and white version because that one's the best.
