Heading back towards the road from the cottage is this muddy track through the sheep field. On one of our outings, we inadvertently spooked this sheep into cornering herself at the gate. She made a fierce opponent as we crept forward, climbing up on the only rock along the way to improve her vantage point for attack.
Finally, after copious pooping and a defiant bawling, she ran past us in a fury of flying downy white puffs. We decided she had faced down the big silver beast and was on her way to tell her friends about the epic victory. As the week wore on, several of her sisters looked at us accusingly...
We called her Gilgamesh.
And since they all looked the same, we called them all Gilgamesh.
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