Today was brilliant.
For a Thursday.
Our professors are constantly cracking jokes, a striking difference from my undergraduate experience at MILITARY SCHOOL. In our Animal Wellness Health and something else important class, we had a lecture on basic canine husbandry and touched on things to consider when advising people on what type of dog would best suit their personality and lifestyle. One of the traits we talked about was sex – male dogs vs female dogs. Our instructor actually said , “Male dogs are a bit more butch, especially if you don’t get them neutered, but I’ve also run across some real nasty bitches…” – I think that quote is relatively correct, hard to remember exactly as the entire class was laughing.
After class, I had my sheep handling practical. Let’s just say 5 month old lambs are assholes.
Now, I know when I say “lamb,” you think of this:
But, really they were more like this:
Ok….not really. They truly were not bad. Fat, fluffy little things- between 35 and 50 kg – I loved them! I was able to restrain and move them, but when it came to sitting them back in a relaxed teddy bear position, I just couldn’t seem to get it. In that way, I was schooled by a 5 month old lamb…well, several of them – it was over a 2 hour practical. I did, however, master the art of quietly approaching the flock and walking up to my “chosen” lamb without scattering them. Standing there quietly with lambs all around me was a very zen-like experience. Until one of them pissed on my boot and kicked a clod of poo into my face.
Still, I liked working with the sheep and playing with the Border Collies (who are real working dogs here and probably not really supposed to be playing with “the help.”)
J and I caught the bus a little after 5. She had been working with cows and we both smelled of barnyard and our respective species specific fecal matter. Somehow, she had gotten cow poo in her hair and, unsurprisingly enough, I ended up getting sheep crap in my mouth. We were wildly gross and it was a very full bus.
A stop down the road, I noticed a handsome Ginger man board the bus and sit one row in front of me. He had wrinkles around his eyes that led me to believe he smiled a lot and was in his 30’s. He was also “scruffy” looking and appeared friendly. I decided we’d have adorable kids and he would probably fall in love with me the moment we locked eyes.
Since I was staring at the back of his head, I was not quite sure how to get him to lock eyes with me – the ever important first step in my plan of falling in love and having Ginger babies.
J suggested I drop something in the aisle, but the bus was going up hill and it would have just rolled backwards instead of forwards. I briefly thought about throwing a pen, but that just seemed so terribly…obvious?
When the lady at the window seat next to me said she was getting off at the next stop, I brilliantly stepped out into the aisle and walked forwards a few steps before realizing I was effectively blocking her exit. I apologized and returned to the seat while she shook her head at me like I didn’t know how to ride a bus.
Having expended all of my creativity on achieving Zen with the lambs and braiding my hair in a way that did not scream, “My hair is in a braid because I knew I would be working with sheep and didn’t bother showering this morning,” I decided to quietly pine away for the rest of the bus ride.
One stop before we normally get off, the Ginger man stood to exit. J excitedly called to me and we jumped up to follow him off the bus, across the street and into the grocery store. He was shorter than I thought and didn’t bother looking back at the two discrete stalkers walking behind him.
As I watched him walk away, I decided it was for the best. I may have smelled like a filthy sheep, but my hands were clean, and the Ginger man had dirt under his nails. It probably would have never worked out anyway.