Jim!Sheep looked out over the pasture where all his sheepy comrades were grazing.  He was only half-aware of how he kept casting his eye in the direction of Blair!Sheep, his best friend and pen-mate.  The younger ram was looking particularly fluffy around the back end this morning, which was no doubt due to hours of rubbing against the fence posts before the cockerel crowed.  It was rather out of character for Blair!Sheep to be awake at the ass-crack of dawn and Jim!Sheep wondered which of the ewes had managed to capture his friend's attention this week.  It was no secret that Blair!Sheep was rapidly working his way through the female population of the flock as rapidly as Farmer Simon's son went through a box of candy.

But Jim!Sheep refused to let a fine piece of lamb shank distract him from his role as self-appointed guardian of the flock.  It wasn't a job he took lightly, and Jim!Sheep was ever vigilant in his duties, knowing as he did how the other sheep felt safer when they knew he was nearby.  The whole flock had been aware of his special sheepy abilities since the day his lamb-aged self had arrived on the back of a truck with no suspension, owned by a Peruvian farmer with an unpronounceable name.  The younger lambs were constantly bugging him for a display of his talents, such as his uncanny knack of sniffing out the most succulent grassy stems in the meadows, or hearing the buzz of the electric shears from paddocks away.  He didn't like to encourage the children too much, but it did his ego no end of good to be showered with such adoration, it bordered on hero-worship.  Blair!Sheep would only shake his head as he passed by, and baa softly about "show offs."  Jim!Sheep knew his pen-mate was only ragging on him, but sometimes he wondered what Blair!Sheep really thought of him.  He'd stay awake late into the night thinking about what he'd heard the sheep on the neighbouring farm say about him, calling Jim!Sheep a "Freeeeeaaaaaak," -- among other things -- dwelling on the hurt, holding it to him just so he could feel something for once.  Even if it was only pain.  Blair!Sheep would tell him the sheep over on the Kincaid farm were just jealous, but Jim!Sheep didn't think that was it.  There was nothing to be jealous over, certainly not a sheep who often stood for hours, staring into space and drooling when he forgot to chew, if he concentrated too hard on his eyes, his ears, or his sniffer.

Some of the older sheep sometimes got their wool in a twist -- more twisty than usual, that is --  at how Jim!Sheep was such a stickler for safety.  Blair!Sheep had even gone so far as to call Jim!Sheep a right old "stick-in-the-mud."  That had smarted a bit, especially coming from the ram of Jim's many, many dreams.  Speaking of dreams, lately it had gotten so bad that Jim!Sheep had even had to resort to counting Blair!Sheep in order to get any sleep at all.

But none of the other sheep understood.  Jim!Sheep knew all too well that a sheep could never be too careful, as wolves never sent a lovely greeting card warning of an attack.  Jim!Sheep had heard many of the stories told among humankind that involved poor, unsuspecting sheep herds being attacked by sneaky wolves, and Jim!Sheep wasn't about to let that happen to his flock!  No way, no how!  An unsuspecting sheep was a dead sheep as far as Jim!Sheep was concerned.  It wasn't only humans who could learn from a story about crying wolf.

Blair!Sheep had, of course, scoffed at the very idea of wolves, bleeting that there were absolutely, positively, categorically none -- NONE, even -- in the foothills around Cascade Farm, but Jim refused to get complacent.  Just because there weren't any wolves around right now, didn't mean there never would be.  Wolves were a wily bunch of four-legged, teeth-gnashing, flea-bitten, matted furballs, and weren't to be trusted not to do something utterly contrary just for the hell of it.  So, Jim!Sheep kept his eyes open and on the horizon, instead of focused right on Blair!Sheep's nicely rounded, white and wooly arse - a view which Jim!Sheep knew would be infinitely more pleasant.

Jim!Sheep sighed.  He really needed to stop thinking about Blair!Sheep so much.  It was taking up far too much of his valuable eating time.  And it was blatantly obvious that a handsome and virile younger ram like Blair!Sheep would never be interested in a ram like Jim!Sheep.  He was too old, too set in his sheeply ways.  The fact that the wool on his head was thinning wasn't much of a selling point either, and the same went for the slight limp he still had after a run in a few months back with a bit of the wire fencing surrounding Farmer Simon's duck pond.  Besides, Blair!Sheep had never given any indication that he saw Jim!Sheep as anything other than a friend.  A good friend, yes but nothing more.  Jim!Sheep sighed again.  It was just so typical of him to set his sights on a ram who was so obviously randy for as many ewes as he could mate.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim!Sheep could see Sam!Sheep making eyes at Blair!Sheep.  That damned hussy was at it again!  None of the ewes of Cascade Farms could be called anything but "easy," but Sam!Sheep was the easiest of the lot.  The idea of his friend getting it on with such a loose ewe was enough to make Jim!Sheep feel slightly queasy.  Although, that may have had more to do with the fact that he'd just spent the last ten minutes all but staring at Blair!Sheep's arse, watching as it wiggled, jiggled, swayed, and swished it's way across the paddock.  It was dizzy-ifying.

But how dare Sam!Sheep look at Blair!Sheep like that!  Didn't she know there was more to Blair!Sheep than just a wooly face?  Sure, Blair!Sheep was one of the handsomest rams to ever roam the hillsides of Cascade Farms but to not look beyond the softly curled surface was to do Blair!Sheep a disservice.  Jim!Sheep's special abilities were wide and varied but Blair!Sheep did have him beat in at least one area -- one which the younger sheep found highly amusing -- and that was who could "Baa" the loudest.  That was Blair all over.  The damned sheep never stopped bleeting about this, that, and the other thing.  He could be a real know-it-all, bossy-wool-pants.  But Jim!Sheep was ram enough to admit that Blair!Sheep did know a lot.  And he was just so gosh-darned cute and wooly, with those shiny ear-tags, that Jim!Sheep could forgive him anything.

Blair!Sheep belonged to Jim!Sheep, damn it!  Even if Blair!Sheep didn't actually know it, even if it was only in Jim!Sheep's dreams.  Dream ownership held up in sheep!court, right?  Right? Ah, damn, Jim!Sheep didn't think so either.  It just wasn't fair.  Blair!Sheep was supposed to just know how Jim!Sheep felt without Jim!Sheep ever having to say anything.  Although, maybe it was best Blair!Sheep didn't know... it was sure as hell preferable to having his pen-mate thinking Jim!Sheep was a weirdo perve.  And so, Jim!Sheep kept his desires to himself, holding them close to his sheepy heart where they kept him warm on many a long night.

Coming out of his thoughts, Jim!Sheep looked down and noticed that he'd managed to eat right through a patch of grass, all the way down to the dirt.  This was exactly why he hated thinking so much.  A thinking Jim!Sheep was a distracted Jim!Sheep, and a distracted Jim!Sheep was an ineffective flock-sentinel.  Shit.  No, literally, shit - he'd stood in some.  Damn this sheepy ability to let one go, anywhere, anytime.  It really was disgusting, and to Jim!Sheep's poor, abused sniffer it was almost unbearable.

And while he was on the topic of unbearable, Jim!Sheep remembered that long, looooooong month many seasons ago that Blair!Sheep had spent sniffing around one of the latest additions to the flock.  As usual with any of Blair!Sheep's relationships, the one with Maya!Sheep had soon petered out -- well, stopped abruptly would be more accurate -- right about the time she'd mentioned wanting to bear Blair!Sheep's lambs.  It hadn't happened soon enough for Jim!Sheep though, and he'd suffered through week upon week of sleepless nights, and dismal days spent patrolling the paddock.  The funny thing was that Jim!Sheep had thought Maya!Sheep was just perfect for his friend.  He couldn't see any other ewe who would have suited Blair!Sheep more as a life-mate -- not any ewes, anyway -- and there was only one ram he ever wanted to see cosying up to Blair!Sheep's fluffy tail end!  One!  And his name was Jim!Sheep, damn it!

'Course, while Blair!Sheep was spoilt for choice when it came to partners, none of the ewes were particularly interested in mating with Jim!Sheep any more.  Certainly not when there was a chance that any lambs that may result from such a union could be born with Jim!Sheep's extra-sheepy talents.  Besides, what ewe would look at Jim!Sheep when there was a ram like Blair!Sheep around?  He was such a flirt, whereas Jim!Sheep always felt so awkward when he tried to chat up a ewe or two.  But all the ewes Jim!Sheep did manage to attract with his strong bone structure, and robust frame only ended up throwing a hissy fit of goat-like proportions and trying to push Jim!Sheep into the bramble bushes along the fenceline -- where his already thinning wool would take a battering -- or betraying him by sleeping with that powderpuff Rafe!Sheep.  That crazy ram was constantly trotting over to the farmhouse to get his wool brushed by Missus Farmer Simon, and he'd strut around for days afterwards like a cockerel, with his chest puffed out and his wool set just so.  Jim!Sheep thought Rafe!Sheep looked ridiculous but the ewes seemed to like it.  It just went to show that ewes were easily impressed.

It was a wasted effort but Jim!Sheep did try not to look as Sam!Sheep sashayed up to where Blair!Sheep was standing with his legs spread wide to better show off those firm buttocks and shapely shanks.  He couldn't tear his eyes away, it was like watching a feed truck wreck.  A sheep just couldn't not watch.  Much like the time Jim!Sheep had stood off to one side while those men loaded Jack!Sheep, his good friend and partner-in-crime, onto the truck bound for a place Farmer Simon had called the "knacker's yard."  Jim!Sheep had never seen his old friend again.  It was a loss that ate at him still.

Turning away from the sight of his best friend making sheep-eyes with that ewe, Jim!Sheep heaved a great sheepy breath and resumed his scan of the surroundings.  The way Jim!Sheep figured it, he could pine and do his duty at the same time.  Constant vigilance took time and, until he plucked up the courage to take the initiative with Blair!Sheep -- or any sheep for that matter -- time was something Jim!Sheep had a lot of.

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