The Old Sheep are one of the loveliest and most timely of stories. I am not into emotionalizing animals, as you know, but today the old sheep accepted me, took me into their midst, let me see their intimacy, community and feeling. I stood in the middle of them, fending off flies and smells and what I felt I was seeing was tender goodbyes. The old sheep are spending their last summer on my farm, on my grass, and then most, if not all of them, will go to slaughter.

This lovely story involves the ram on the right. He is always with the same ewe, always leaning against her, she is always looking for him, and permitting this. They are an inseparable couple, always together, yet not, to me, mournful. I hear them telling me this: do not be sad for us, we are not piteous or in need of saving, but we are  living our lives, accepting our time, saying goodbye in our own way.

No farmer can afford to keep sheep this old, and this farmer is gracious and  kind to offer them a final summer on grass. Few farmers would do that. I don’t really see the old sheep as sad, rather than tender. They are so gentle with one another, they huddle much of the day, touching, leaning on one another. The old sheep were very gracious to invite me in with them today, and I was well-rewarded. Photo album on Facebook.