The Story of the Very Mean Shepherd by B.B. Wolf
Once upon a time there was a mean shepherd. Very mean. He wanted me to starve. Seriously, he refused to allow me get any tasty sheep from the flock he was tending. I tried. Believe me, I tried. When I thought he wasn’t looking, I hopped through the bushes, about to grab a yummy piece of mutton…then, “Whack!” He hit me right over the head with that long stick of his. He calls the stick a crook. He’s the crook. I should file assault charges against the guy.
There was another time when he was bringing the herd in from a pasture, and one of the sheep got away. He didn’t realize it. I did. I saw the whole thing. The dumb sheep wandered off from the rest of the group, not paying attention to its surroundings at all. The mindless sheep was totally lost. I waited and waited. Not wanting to be detected by that overly aggressive shepherd, I knew if I just bided my time, I’d have a tasty dinner. Lamb chops are a delight if seasoned properly, but I digress. There were 100 sheep. Surely that annoying sheepherder wouldn’t notice one missing ewe.
I can hear him counting, “97, 98, 99… where’s 100? Number 100 is missing.”
He noticed. No joke. Then like a fool, he went out looking for that lousy directionally challenged sheep. Of course, I was in hiding ready to nab the lost wanderer. Never expecting that the bully with a crook would leave 99 protected sheep for the one unprotected sheep. Who would do that? He did. Wouldn’t you know it, he found that lamb too; tossed her over his shoulders and carried her back to the pen. Ugh. I hate that shepherd.
About the pen, you’ll never guess where that narcoleptic shepherd “sleeps.” In the door way. How can you sleep in a door way? You can’t. But that’s where he plants himself. Every night. All night. He’s like the gate to the pen. You can’t get to the sheep unless you get by him and his crook. He must sleep with one eye open, because I can never get pass that guy. I’m pretty sure, he is wise to me and my schemes.
But I’ve got a new plan. It’s fool proof. I’m going to get a sheep costume. I saw them in the Halloween store in town. I’ll dress up like a sheep. Wear the sheep’s clothing, if you will. How hard can it be to pretend to be a dumb sheep? It can’t be that baaaaaaad. (Sorry for the dad joke. My pups hate my puns). But I’ll fool that shepherd in my costume; get in the pasture and then take any sheep I want. By the time, that dumb sheepman realizes I’m not a sheep, I’ll be long gone with my dinner. Talk about fast food, I’ll be hoofing it out of there quicker than you can say, “Mary had a little lamb.” My name ain’t Mary, but, with a little luck, I’ll have a lamb. This plan is pure genius. Slurp!
Here’s the deal: My goal in life is to get as many sheep as possible. Trick ‘em. Steal ‘em. Trap ‘em. Fool ‘em. Grab ‘em. I don’t care how I get them, I just want to get them. I’m relentless. I will keep trying until I get one too. The ones close to the shepherd, the ones practically glued to the guy, are nearly impossible to nab. But some of those dumb sheep will get their eyes off the shepherd and start playing too close to the boundaries the shepherd has set up. Those ones will surely step over the line and when they do, I’ll be there waiting. Licking my chops.
You can be sure of this, I’ll keep trying or my name isn’t “Big Bad Wolf.”
Moral of the story: The safest place is next to the Shepherd (capital “S”).
