Breeding season is almost over for the year. Actually I’m pretty sure everyone settled a month ago, but I let it run the full two months just in case.
“Maybe we should wait three months? Just to be on the safe side?”
No, sorry Duke. Both sets of girls are getting tired of their male companions and are more than ready to go back to segregated flocks.
“Pleeeease can we go back over with Princess? I miss her and sweet little Nova sooo much!”
“Yeah, now she says that. Before we came down here she called Princess a power hungry tyrant and Nova a spoiled brat.”
“I never said any such thing!”
Duchess is right; no matter how much they insist on being moved, the minute I move them they’ll most likely start complaining that they want to go back.
Nova still calls for Duchess when Princess leads the flock out in the morning. I think she’ll be happy to have her aunties back.
“Grblf. Whzzt neft sllp.”
Barney and Liam stumble along behind, trying to wake up and remember how their legs work. Poor guys don’t even have the luxury of a nice caffeinated beverage to perk them up. The Soays may wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed at the crack of dawn, but Shetlands (at least my Shetlands) are not morning people.
I’m not a morning person by nature, but between the puppy who starts huffing impatiently half an hour before the alarm and Princess who starts bellowing ten minutes after the alarm, I don’t really have much choice. At least I get a morning cup of tea, even if it is usually cold by the time I get to sit down and drink it.