I'm dating myself with that earworm!
Yesterday morning when I turned the sheep out, Bramble was the last to leave the fold. All the rest bellied up to the hay bag; she laid down and stretched her head out as if to take a nap. Odd – and with sheep, odd is a warning sign. So I went over to check her out. Of course then she popped up and acted as if nothing was wrong.
My presence in the sheep lot was duly noted, and sweet Sarai sought stroking more over sustenance.
|I just love this!|
Que sera sera, from . . .