coloured sheep

Before I migrated out to farm-life I was a normal Joe living in suburbia. And when you’re living in suburbia one of a neighbour’s greatest transgressions is to have barking dogs.

The type that bark incessantly. The type that never stop. Ugh.

Now I confess that in years gone by I was the owner of one of those dogs. She was highly strung and mildly obsessive (okay, maybe more than mildly) but nevertheless I was at the receiving end of Neighbour Abuse. A LOT of Neighbour Abuse. And it was justified – sadly.

And so it was that as that I became overly-sensitive to the volume and duration of my dog’s barking sprees. I subconsciously allocated a quota and anything above and beyond that was met with vehement shushing (read shouting) and finger wagging on my part.

Yep, I know.. Cue the eye-rolling..

It was also quite exhausting. For me and my dogs.

One of my current dogs is a cross Border Collie. And she quite fancies herself as an expert herder of sheep. And yes, we have sheep right next door.

Daily we are “blessed” with the cacophony of sheer barking delight whenever one of those woolly beasts ventures too close to the boundary fence. It’s loud. It shatters the peace. And it hits my over-sensitive-owner-who-has-barking-dogs trigger.

And so I shout. And wag my finger. And she ignores me.

And then I shout some more. And vigorously shake my finger some more. And she still ignores me.

Dog = happy, owner = stressed-out-wreck.

A week or so ago she became ill. Her usual exuberance and excitement at simply being alive vanished and she became quiet and withdrawn.

And she didn’t notice the sheep. At all.

And it was quiet. Very quiet. Too quiet.

There was no peacefulness in this quiet. It was a void. It was the lack of vibrant life.

It meant everything wasn’t okay.

I missed her noisiness. Desperately.

Not the commotion. But what it represented.

Sometimes we need to lose something in order to see it’s value – From a different perspective.

And there’s my musing for the day (ta-dah..!)

It’s simple but I felt it deeply.

She’s healthy again now. And full of life. And now I let her herd, and bark excitedly at the sheep.

I see the fun she’s having. Living completely in the moment. Expressing herself with sheer doggy delight!


She doesn’t care that the sheep ignore her. She simply enjoys the act in its entirety.

Our biggest teachers are right in front of us.

If we just take the time to notice them.

Don’t you love the coloured sheep..? Pop over to fb and have your say..

Or better still, let’s chat about how I can help you notice those teachers in your own life by clicking here..