Not to suggest that the nine sheep in my main flock are anything like Tolkien’s Ringwraiths, aside from the fact that there are nine of them. My little sheep are nothing like Ringwraiths. For one thing, the Ringwraiths always did what their boss told them to do.
I think they’re more like Hobbits, being short, curly haired, resistant to change, and completely uninterested in anything that happens in the outside world. Also, they eat all day and love to play games.
Today they decided to play the Splendid Game called let’s-pretend-to-be-scared-of-the-scary-gate. It’s the third time in a week. I don’t know why this game entertains them so much. Maybe it’s a passive-aggressive thing because I’ve been gone so much.
“One does not simply walk into the field!”
And of course if the Princess the Leadersheep refuses to do something, the others are morally obligated to do the same. And so off she went, trampling down the fence and leading everyone on an unexpected journey.
“The road goes ever on, out from the door where it began…”
Even little Mira joined in the escape, after briefly stopping to investigate my pockets. Ungrateful child.
Mira, Neo, and Lady quickly discovered the gravel pile behind the barn, and that too was a Splendid Game.
“I have climbed the slopes of Mount Doom!”
“And wheeee! Down the other side!”
“This is fun, Mommy!”
This Mount Doom may not be volcanic, but it does have some serious erosion problems now, thanks to many many little sheep hooves playing on it.
Even the most splendid of Splendid Games gets boring after a while, so eventually she wandered off with everyone else to get second breakfast and pointedly avoid any attempt to corral them back where they’re supposed to be.
“Even in ancient days they were, as a rule, shy of ‘the Big Folk’, as they call us, and now they avoid us with dismay and are becoming hard to find.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien,
Seriously. Hobbits, the lot of them.