I am trying to work every afternoon in my shed making little sheeple to sell in Lerwick. Harrel has discovered that this is where I can be found.
So he comes in and then I boot him out as he always aims straight for the graptopetulum plants. He loves them and I am not sure if they are poisonous to small black Shetland sheep.
Edited to say they are not – I’ve looked them up but even so, Harrel does not need to eat my plants.
He pretends to be interested and just happening to be in the area. I am not fooled.
“Harrel, out means out!”
This morning I found a not-so-small black woolly bottom sticking out from under the horsevan.
Upon closer inspection, I discovered its identity.
Harrel, although wide, can even stand up under there. It is lucky he is black. He would look filthy otherwise.
And guess who is back looking like a pathetic and little lost lamb.
“No, Harrel. Go away. Go find the others.”
And this is Harrel’s look of pure determination. I told him his mother was looking for him so he quickly turned tail and left. Even Harrel doesn’t mess with Maggie. He’s not that stupid.
My plants are safe for another day.