Page 39 - Fables volume 2

Wild and Woolly

Curly hadn’t wandered far into the fold before he butted into Matt.
“Hey, you old ram! Watch where you’re going,” said Matt, and
backed off a couple of paces. “I haven’t seen you around here
before,” he continued, giving the other a head-lowered look of
challenge.
“No, I just got dumped in here today. The masters thought I’d fit
this flock better than the last one. Maybe I was a bit too
rambunctious—or not enough, if you know what I mean.”
“Bah!” Matt came a bit closer to the newcomer. “Check out these
ewes; seen one, seen ‘em all. Don’t expect a lot of submission in this
enclosure. And you’ll see a lot of mutton dressed as lamb: don’t be
fooled.”
Curly twitched slightly, then quickly said, “I’ve been around. But
maybe you can show me who’s who and whose ewe. My name’s
Curly.” He tossed his head proudly.
“I’m Matt. Sure, let’s talk. I’ll wise you up. But I’m curious. Your
coat is in lousy condition: what were you getting to eat over there?”
“Oh, the grass was green enough. But we caught some lice from
that damned dog and everybody got the dip a couple of days ago. I
can’t do a thing with my hair for weeks after that. Too bad it’s not
shearing season.”
“Dog, eh? One of those old herders, I’ll bet. I keep away from
them.”
Curly looked suspiciously at Matt. “Of course! You’re supposed to
keep away from them—that’s how they work, trying to spook you in
one direction or another. I was just unlucky. I didn’t lie down with
him: I lay down where he had been lying down, purely accidental. I
wasn’t the only one.”
The new acquaintances moved slowly around the others, to a
chorus of rumbles and snorts from those trying to get some sleep.
“Dogs interest me,” said Matt ruminatively. “Has it ever occurred
to you that the three of us—sheep, dogs and wolves—are locked in a
strange set of relationships with the masters?”

38