Not in my backyard

 As yours truly wended his way along the track after a hard day at the office (trying to access emails) my ponderings of how best to disentangle an excited three year old from a scalextric set was rudely interrupted by the presence of the PGOOR who had struck again allowing unfettered access from the common to the militias lands. Amongst the wooly backs busily munching the greenery were two familiar faces from our little flockers.
As I stopped Gerry and dismounted the difficulty of extricating two rampaging ryelands from 100 plus militias trainee lamb chops magnified when the militias sheep did what any sensible sheep would do when faced with an irate fat block trying to round up two of their species, they legged it as fast as possible. Now sheep being sheep like, the two insurgent Ryelands now faced with a choice of run after the many or stand their ground and wait for fat bloke began to make the wrong choice and gravitated downhill after the seething mass of running wool.
Feigning disinterest I "ran" up the track and "jumped" the stock fence between the divided lands, before running at an angle that would have made Pythagoras proud and intercepted my two sheep as they tried to make good their escape. Puzzled by the sudden appearance of yours truly to their front (when last seen wheezing to the rear) the naughty sheep turned tail and managed to find the gate (one ran into the fence on her first attempt) taking shelter on the Bonsai Mountain.

Once everyone's pulse rate returned to normal yours truly went for a stroll around the perimeter. Tomorrow more tales of Heidi. (The Ghost)