Well, the tables have turned.

The only sheep who will talk to me these days, without getting up and walking away in disgust, is Lambie.  I thought he would be aloof like normal.

But, no, he was all sweetness and light complete with Winning Smile.  Dear boy.  We luffs little Lambie.

I  was actually in the sheep field with my pockets stuffed full with a bottle of painkillers, syringe and collar for ‘Bert – he is limping and very withdrawn.  I had everything well hidden but he knew and refused to have any discussion at all.  I couldn’t get near him.

I reckon I could’ve talked to ‘Ster if I had wanted to – I stroked his head and told him he looked so handsome but it was really Bert I was after and wanted to treat.

So very handsome, though.

The others were all a bit mad too so I left them alone. Barrel suffered from stranger-danger about me and I am not the one who has been sheared and looks different!  Everyone is in a very weird mood – it happens when they are sheared.  I should be used to this by now.

Anyway, as I watched Bert vanishing into the middle distance, I told myself that if he could run away and avoid capture, then he can’t be that ill, can he?  However, I will keep trying.