The others never really have a chance although it is bad luck, aesthetically speaking, for a Jacobs sheep.

Her horn goes straight up like a unicorn’s instead of twisting round like all the others. And she only has one where there ought to be two.

 

We call her One Horn.

 

Sheep, especially ewes rut for flock supremacy. Rams head butt each other too.

But they’re only playing at it.

It’s for show rather than for keeps mainly because they only meet each other intermittently so impressions count but don’t last. The girls have to live together so being top dog, so to speak, matters.

 

One Horn is top dog in our flock. Anyone silly enough to charge at her ends up with a hole in the head.

 

It doesn’t happen all that often.

Sheep are not stupid.

If it looks like a sharp stick it’s going to feel like a sharp stick. Someone might do it once but if the sound of the pain doesn’t carry word soon spreads.

Each year at rutting time One Horn will bow her head and invite all comers to take a run at her.

She is to be Numero Uno for quite some time.

 

In the end she decides to hang up her horn.

 

So she gives up her flock wide responsibilities and retires.

Tired but not defeated.

This old lady and her motley coloured, motley shaped - just plain motley, flock of friends, really at their age should have been put out to grass in a more strictly metaphysical sense than happens in our field. Well on her way to her second decade One Horn is at least twice as old as the average ewe. But there’s nothing average about One Horn.

Once a leader always a leader.

And the former top dog turns herself into a ‘blind’ dog. One of the young ewes is carrying twins but lack of food is causing her to lose her sight. It’s called pregnancy toxemia. One Horn probably doesn’t know this. But she does know that the young ewe needs help.

So she adopts her.

Stamping her foot to keep away the sheep dog and bleating just like a ewe calls to her own young One Horn becomes this ewe’s eyes. You always find her just within smelling distance of her charge. Talking, talking, encouraging her to keep up with the flock with a sound or a shove or showing her the way to the trough with a gentle nudge and a bleat.

 

One Horn is number one in my eyes too.