One Of My More Genius Ideas

Maybe it's all the fresh air up here?. . . or maybe it's the proximity to nature?. . . I would like to tell you about one of my more genius ideas as of late that David Stew reminded me of when he came here last week. On the ranch here we have some sheep. They were bred anciently in Barbados and look sort of like deer from far away, rather cheek (and expensive) I might add. My father-in-law bought three of them to eat down the vegetation that grows comparatively like Dad's back hair. . .very impressive! It became necessary to capture them after we had originally let them roam for a time on a isolated hill down in the front of the property. Because my dog Keena is such a well behaved, handsome, regal, majestic, lovable, you get the idea, hybrid wolfdog, it dawned on me that she would be a perfect working sheepdog and that I could employ her efforts to help round up the gentle beasts, thus saving the hassle of chasing after them. So off we went entering the gate and trying to sneak up on the three sheep. Keena, bless her heart, did a wonderful job frightening the sheep and as soon as they laid their eyes on her. They screamed murder as it were and ran! Keena showed impressive speed for an eleven year old (that's 77 years in dog age mind you) and soon had disappeared around the far side of the hill in hot pursuit. I meanwhile ran to head them off the opposite way, ready to tackle the ewe, after which I would lead her to the trailer and the two young lambs would reluctantly follow behind. Sure enough, here they came! All was going according to plan, and after I subdued the mother and was in the process of wrestling her over to the trailer, a funny thought came to my mind. It said the following: "That's funny, your trusty sheepdog should have been coming around the corner by now. And where is the second lamb?" I froze. The shock of what was most likely happening on the far side of the hill took a few moments to work it's way into the actual thinking parts of my small brain. Eventually, the combination of "Wild America" and the Nephite annihilation computed! Sprinting around the hill I prepared myself for a scene not unlike that of Mormon's final battle, only worse. Behold, the wolf with it's prize. Lucky for me Keena was not raised by wolves, but rather by loving humans who didn't consume much mutton. Somehow she did not exactly know what to do with such a large animal. She did the damage of course and the poor lamb nearly kicked the bucket with shock, but she has since survived and is now affectionately and fittingly named "Tripod." It didn't do any good to scold the sheepdog. She was doing what wolves do best. I instead received 40 lashings for one of my more genius ideas. I hope you enjoyed. We'll see you in July.

Love Uncle Dan, Rach, Josie, another little baby girl due Oct. 13th, and the sheepdog.