An Olive Grove at the Edge of the World: How two American city boys built a new life in rural New Zealand by Jared Gulian

Author:Jared Gulian [Gulian, Jared]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lucky Pony Press
Published: 2018-03-17T00:00:00+00:00

27

The sweet taste of chicken feed

One day that autumn Hamish took away some of the cows in our paddocks and replaced them with sheep. In any group of animals, I’ve learned, there are always one or two that stand out. Among these sheep, it was Sweetie. We started calling her that because she really was sweet, even though she did have a bit of a problem.

Hamish put the remaining cattle and the new sheep in different paddocks. He asked us about running the sheep in the olive grove, but we were nervous about that because we didn’t want them to nibble at the trees. “Okay, he said. They’ll stay in the paddocks.” Then he added, “One of those sheep is a pet sheep. Belongs to my sister. That one’s never going to the butcher.”

At first all the sheep were out in the side paddock with the cattle race, beyond the driveway and a row of gum trees. I didn’t see them much. But after a while Hamish moved them into the top paddock where the chicken run is. That’s when I got to know them.

Every morning I would cross the paddock carrying my trusty red bucket full of chicken feed. The sheep stared. One had a blue plastic ring in its ear. Another had a large, square head. Being naturally sheepish, they ran away if I came too close. But one sheep never ran. No matter how close I came as I walked by, she would stand her ground and stick her nose out, sniffing the air. After a couple of mornings, she started walking over to greet me.

One day she came so close that I was able to reach out and touch her head. Your average sheep doesn’t allow that. This had to be the pet sheep.

She had a dainty face and a large freckle on the side of her nose. She leaned into me, and I rubbed her ears. I was flattered that she trusted me so much.

“Aww,” I said. “You’re a sweetie.”

Then, all of a sudden, she thrust her head into the bucket of chicken feed I was holding, and she started eating. For a moment I watched in disbelief. She’d played me like a fool, just to get to my chicken feed. But then I thought that maybe giving chicken feed to a sheep wasn’t a good idea. I pulled the bucket away.

I don’t know what’s in chicken feed that could possibly taste so amazing, but Sweetie loved the stuff. She was very upset when I pulled the bucket away. She wanted more, and she wanted it now. She pushed at the bucket with her snout. She stomped her foot on the ground. She huffed and puffed and, when I walked away, she followed me all the way over to the Chicken Palace. There was plenty of grass in the paddock then, but when she saw me scatter that chicken feed inside the chicken run, I swear she had a hungry, longing look in her eyes.

I went to the garage and checked the chicken feed bag.

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