Stranger from a strange land

Those that follow the Tales From The Rock will know that life here is rather like Forest Gump's chocolates, you never know what you're going to get. So tonight when we returned from work in our trusty troop carrier Rene we were prepared for the usual jobs, the checks on the animals and the cleaning out and feeding up. We also expected the torrential rain which was set for the evening and intent on making life miserable for all stupid enough to be trudging around the mud loaded with various foodstuffs for hungry animals waiting patiently in their dry bunks. What we didn't expect was to find this poor creature sheltering in the goat house.

Now to get to the goat house you have to walk along a narrow passage, directly in front of you is a wire door with members of the magnificent seven sat watching your every move. This can be quite intimidating to a lone herbivore, especially one that isn't used to the mayhem of the Rock HQ pack. I left the door open to the goat house today in case our two intrepid explorers got fed up of the wet weather and decided to behave like goats in the how to keep goats book says they should behave, by taking shelter. Our two are obviously a hardier type than those of the author and seem determined to test their weather proofing at every opportunity.

This sheep must have come in from the hill while we were out, explored the yard and then decided to check out the sleeping quarters by the kennel block, braved the undoubtedly noisy reception from the dogs and settled herself in the dry straw under their watchful eyes.

As can be seen she is in a bit of a state, painfully thin and with a huge lump which we suspect is an abscess on her jaw. She lay calmly while the magnificent seven were reunited with their humans which is never a quiet affair and watched quietly while a nice bowl of goat mix with some supplement mix to boost up the mineral content was offered as a tasty dinner. At first we didn't think she was going to eat but pretty soon she scoffed the lot. Hopefully the injection of antibiotics will start to sort her mouth out and she is comfortably settled for some TLC at Rock HQ.

When she is stronger we will try and find which of the local militia she belongs to. Its not uncommon for broken mouthed animals like this one to be abandoned to their fate on the hills, it saves disposing of the body.The hills are littered with remains of the dead, Sheep Skull Lane gets its name for a reason.

Quite how she found her way into Rock HQ is a bit of a mystery, the luxury accommodation on offer cannot be seen from the hill or the track. Its tempting to think she knew we would look after her. Wild hill sheep don't normally seek out contact with humans, especially those surrounded by so many dogs.