This morning Biddy came back to the barnyard while the other sheep were grazing in the pasture. I put a little hay in the feeder but didn’t tell the rest of the sheep or the donkeys.
Biddy munched on it for a while then stood on the top of the hill and let out a long baaaa.
Often when one sheep is alone and calls to the others, they come. But this time the sheep and donkeys kept on grazing.
Soon Biddy went back to the hay to nibble some more.
It seems to me that as some of the sheep get older their wool become more fine, softer. That’s how it is with Biddy’s wool. I’m glad I didn’t mix it with any of the other sheep’s wool this time. I’m glad I left it natural.
It’s such a soft brown. I reminds me of Griselle’s wool who came to the farm with Biddy. Two of the four Romneys we gave a home when they needed it. Biddy is the only one still alive. She’s one of my old ewes along with Suzy and Socks. She moves a little slower and chews her food a little longer. And is as gentle as every.