I wrote this short story after a similar situation took place. It's kind of based on true events, I just made the narrator different from myself and exaggerated the whole event for comedic effect. In reality, I was circled and threatened by a male ram when I disturbed his family by taking some photographs. Something made me think it would be a good story and hence, this was born.
Warning: Mild language.
Anyway; please enjoy:
How to Survive Sheep That Are Out For Your Blood.
Have you ever had a sheep try to kill you? No? I thought not.
You see, I used to be just like you. I used to see sheep as gentle, quiet creatures who wouldn't harm a fly. I used to "ooh" and "ahh" at their lambs and watch the elder sheep as they chewed merrily on blades of grass, occasionally throwing a "bahhh" my way. They live an easy life don't they? Sheep. All they do is eat grass and sleep half the time. Oh and of course, provide the wool for our jumpers.
That is, of course, until their slaughtered and covered in mint sauce.
Now now, all you animal rights activists, don't go getting your knickers in a twist. Or boxers, whichever the case may be. I'm just stating the facts, here. I too used to feel the guilt whenever I tucked into a lamb chop, vowing never to eat another because it used to have a face. And a cute face at that. Now though, I am guilt free. I know how evil the little suckers actually are.
Evil Sheep? I know that's what your thinking. What's this crazy lady on about - evil sheep, pft, I say! But stop that prejudgemental attitude right there, Mister. I can prove sheep are evil. Yes, because one tried to kill me.
That's right. You heard me. A sheep tried to murder me. You're just lucky I survived the ordeal in order to tell you, my friend, how to survive such a situation.
Well, it all started one summer night when I was out walking. I was up high in the hills, nothing but green grass out in front of me for miles. In the heat of the moment I had decided that, being a budding photographer, I would take some photographs up there. Maybe even get some sunset shots. Real romantic shit, you know.
That's when I first saw them. The sheep. They were dotted out, here and there, in the middle of a field, munching away on the grass. There were lambs there too.
"Aww!" I had exclaimed at the top of my lungs, "I have to go take some photographs!"
What a dilusioned fool I was.
So, using stealth and walking like a damn ninja, I made my way across the hillside. I didn't mind that the grass was damp beneath my shoes, nor that I'd almost snapped my ankle four or five times to reach the area were the sheep were grazing. It was all in the persuit of some awesome wildlife photography. I could upload them to facebook. Get famous that way. Hey, don't mock me, it will happen one day or another. Where was I? Oh yes. So, I was very careful not to scare the sheep and when I got about six feet from them, I quietly began taking some photographs. They were all female sheep, as far as I could tell and none really bothered about me being there.
I was in awe of them and the view. It was quite spectacular, being up so high and all. I'm normally scared of heights but I knew if I fell up there it wouldn't be certain death, it would just be a case of a sprained ankle down the nearby ditch. And possibly, the stench of sheep shit on my clothes. I could live with such a situation.
Yeah, yeah. What's evil about some sheep eating grass whilst I photograph them? Nothing?
That's where you are wrong.
Oh, you poor disolusioned soul. Still thinking sheep are innocent, when in reality they are savage beasts. If it wasn't for what happened next, I too would share that mindset. Thankfully, my eyes have been well and truly opened.
As I turned around, I saw a male sheep. A large ram. He was stood, staring at me, his head lowered, his extremely sharp-looking horns pointed right at me. I froze to the spot and wondered what to do next. I hadn't done anything to alarm him, or his fellow sheep that stood a few feet in the opposite direction, so what was his problem? Typical man, asserting his dominance for the sake of it.
Suddenly, he began to advance. No matter which way I turned, left, right, forward, backwards - he was there. He was circling me but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of running away. I wouldn't turn my back and expose myself to his horns. No way. You see, he was just out to cause a fight. Wanted to tell me in sheep language to get the fuck off his land before he rammed those horns right up my ass. I wasn't going to move, but those things were really sharp. I could imagine the pain if he decided to headbutt me with those things. Eventually, I took the hint and backed away further. He kept on staring at me, with those soulless black eyes as he walked towards me. There was nowhere to run and I had to dive into the nearby ditch and hide from that scary beast. It was like something out of a horror film.
I lay there, in the ditch and waited. I couldn't hear him, his hooves were too silent on the wet grass. Ninja sheep. Who would have thought it? I debated about what to do next. Should I peek my head up and see if Mr. Psycho Sheep had backed off, or should I climb down the ditch a good twenty feet and then back up the other side onto the safe public footpath? Eventually, I bravely peeked my head out from the ditch. Why should I climb down a slippery ditch, get full of even more sheep shit, just to avoid some stupid sheep? Besides, by now, the ram had gone back to munching his food. Clearly he was so stupid that he had thought by diving in the ditch, I'd completely left the area. He thought he'd won.
Damn sheep. Thinking they own the place.
I climbed back to my feet and decided that I would get my photos. I would get that bloody shot of the cutest baby lamb I'd ever seen. Then, I'd blow it up and have it as a poster. What do you mean? Why didn't I just buy a poster? It's not the same, damn it. God, you just don't understand do you? There's no challenge in buying something that you can photograph yourself. Covered in sheep shit. Intimidated by sheep. High up in the mountains.
Moving on, already!
I watched as that evil bastard kept munching the grass, seemingly unaware that I was back on my feet. I laughed to myself and took out my camera again. I headed a few feet closer, not close enough to be noticed by any of the other sheep, or to scare them away. Excellent. The lamb was facing me, a perfect shot. That was when he saw me again. He raised his head, stamped his feet on the ground several times, then charged. He had good speed for such a fat little guy. His horns were aimed right for me and I jumped to the side to avoid being speared. He turned, ready to charge again and I dived over the large gap in the ditch to the public footpath to avoid being stabbed. I could see the blood lust in his eyes. He wanted to spear me right through the legs with those things. I knew that if he got me on the floor, he'd probably try and stab me again. It would be carnage. I scrambled to my feet, watching him as he continued to advance, snorting and kicking up dirt in immense anger. I mean, come on, I wasn't even doing anything particulary bad. You think I deserved it? Screw you man. Those sheep didn't even know I was there, I wasn't even disturbing their meal. I was just taking a few photos. Mr. Macho Sheep over here thinks it's cool to try and spear somebody to death with his head because of some photos? That's messed up.
It seemed I was safe. The sheep continued to assert his dominance at the other side of the ditch, but was unwilling to follow me to the footpath. Maybe he knew that it was human territory. Thought he'd end up as my lunch if he crossed me on that side of town, I guess. Or maybe he was too damn chicken shit to cross the ditch himself. Either way, he stayed there, with his female companions and the lambs who seemed oblivious to his anger management issues.
After this brush with death, standing on the small stone footpath, I thought to myself - what if this happens to somebody else? I mean, it can't be an isolated thing, sheep attacking humans. They seem so quiet though, sneaky that way really. They want you to believe their just bundles of fluff when in reality, they are bundles of fluff with horns. Horns and a blood lust for anyone who steps onto their land.
So I thought to myself, I need to tell people about this. Spread the word. Get people the knowledge and skill to survive a sheep that is out for your blood. Because who is to say it is just male sheep that act this way? Maybe female sheep are psychotic too. Who knows? They hide their true colours so well, it's hard to know which sheep you can really trust.
What do you mean he was just protecting his babies? C'mon, the guy was clearly unhinged. You may not believe me now, but you wait. Wait until you look into the cold, dark eyes of a sheep and hear a "bahh" that sends a shiver down your spine. Then you'll know, son. You'll know.
The top tip I can give to you brave souls who choose to believe me, that sheep are evil, is to be able to think on your feet. For you may be decieved at first, like I once was and fall prey to the illusion that sheep are sensitive souls. That's when they will strike. If you have the ability to think out a plan of action, as I did, you will be able to outwit any sheep, fight any ewe, go to war with any ram. Not one of the fluffy monsters will defeat you, if only you can keep a clear head and make sure you have a plan.
Remember that then. Step one; always think on your feet.
Of course, another key element in surviving a sheep attack is speed. Outrun those suckers before you end up impaled on their horns. I assure you, no matter how much you think you've outwitted them, hidden, moved, whatever, speed will always be your friend. If all else fails, you will always be able to run. At least I hope so. If you don't have cardio, I'm sorry, but you're doomed. It's just how it is.
So we've covered steps one and two now, time for the final key ingredient.
That, my friends, is bravery.
Yes, sheep can be a scary opponent. It took a lot of guts to poke my head out of that ditch. I could have lost an eye. Could have just poked my head up to be met by the sharp point of the ram's horn. I tell you, until you've been in that situation you don't even know fear. Everything slows down, time, sound. It all stops. You don't know if you're going to live or die. He could have been waiting. Yet I had to be brave, for what would become of me if I had hidden forever? I would have died anyway, lost in the rolling hills of the countryside, defeated.
So, yes, the final step is bravery. Be couragous in the fight againt the furry foe. Stand up for your right to photograph wildlife and for the right to stand on any blade of grass regardless of who is eating it. Stand tall and say "I am human, I need not fear you, small sheep." Besides, you have to be brave, for sheep can smell your fear. If they know that you are scared then, well, it's pretty much over already. Game over man. Just let them eat you and have done with it. Come to think of it do sheep eat people? It wouldn't surprise me, evil little suckers. Zombie Sheep. Hmm, maybe that's a guide book for another day.
I'm getting to the point! God. Have some patience. So, yeah, bravery. It's true, their "bahhh" may haunt your dreams for many years to come but if you have stood bravely against a sheep then it is almost certain that you will survive. Well, maybe not. In theory you may still get impailed, or headbutted off a cliff, or whatever, but if you are brave, at least you can die like a man. Not like a sissy.
So there you have it. Think on your feet, run like hell and don't be afraid. Three simple steps to almost guarentee survival of any sheep related assault.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lamb chop waiting for me and I intend to enjoy it.
Victory tastes sweet.
I hope you enjoyed this. It's my first real attempt at writing anything funny so I hope it made you smile. A review / comment would be appreciated! Thanks.