It seems there is no one left in the flock bossy enough to keep all those conflicting personalities together, so the breed divide seems to be at least semi-permanent for now.
Every morning lately the Shetland (and half-Shetland) group wanders off thisaway and grazes peacefully together…
“The flock that grazes together, stays-es together!”
…While the Soays wander off thataway and argue about it…
“What are Lady and Duchess fighting about now, Nova?”
“I have no idea, Neo.”
… And Mira stays right by me to make sure no one infringes on her lap-sitting rights.
“This is MY mommy’s lap. Mine. Only I can sit here. No Apples or Novas allowed!”
After giving her her morning tribute of petting, it’s back to the house where Watcher
drinks from the faucet “helps” me fill the water bucket, soaking everything in a four foot radius. He then follows the bucket me all the way out to the field, hopping and craning his neck trying to lap at the water, usually causing me to slosh quite a bit of it over both of us.
There’s a nice, stationary bowl of water for him and Echo on the porch, but apparently it’s more fun to drink from a moving target.
“It tastes better if you can make the water go everywhere while you’re drinking!”
Meanwhile Echo stays on the patio, sniffing the clover flowers and keeping his paws out of the wet grass as much as possible. He follows me down to the fence in the evenings when the grass is dry, but in the mornings it’s a 50/50 chance he’ll decide to keep an eye on me from a distance rather than get wet.
“I’m just going to wait here, it’s awfully wet out there.”
I think my whole farm is a study in contrasts.