Much Ado About Mutton

A few weeks ago, my co-workers and I were swapping stories of being pulled over for various traffic violations.............

A few weeks ago, my co-workers and I were swapping stories of being pulled over for various traffic violations. My co-worker (whose name is not Sara and who is not a hostess) started her story with, “Once my brother and I were in the back of my dad’s truck holding onto our sheep … ”

*Alex, I’ll take ‘Story Starters That I Never Thought I’d Hear’ for 1,000, please.*

Wait, wait, wait … Back that farm truck up a minute. Where in the flock do people go around hauling their children and sheep around in the back of their truck? Well, as it turns out, this happens in Idaho regularly. Apparently, sheep are transported in the back of trucks with children hanging onto them for dear livestock. Contrary to what the nursery rhyme tells us, if you leave sheep alone, they don’t come home. They actually fall out the back of the truck.

Anyway, I’m sure that Sara’s story of being pulled over while holding onto sheep was an intriguing one. Most likely it was complete with tickets written based on the shear illegality of ovine-holding techniques, a short stint with her family on the lamb because the cops were totally fleecing them and just all around baaaaaaad luck with the law. Ewe know how those things go.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear the rest of the story because I am not mature enough to continue listening (like a respectful adult) when I hear something like, “ … in the back of the truck holding onto our sheep.” Once the jokes started, they never ended.

I’m fairly certain that most people would have joked after hearing this kind of thing, but I’m probably the last person you should tell a story like this to. I laughed for weeks. I was not sheepish about teasing her at all. Thankfully, she was a good sport about the wool thing.

Eventually, when the jokes started to get old (they’re still not completely dead … obviously), I came to a realization. I said to myself, “Hold up there Little Miss High Horse (not to be confused with Little Miss Bo Peep, Sara). What are you bleating around about? Are you really that much better than her?”

No. The truth is that I am not.

I can start at least three stories with, “Once, when I tried to ride a cow … ” And I was mostly sober for two of those stories, so I can’t even pull the “that was just the alcohol pulling the wool over my eyes.” Also, my first job was catching snakes for my grandparents for $1/snake, I once milked a goat in high heels, and the highlight of my weekend as a teenager was doing nothing but driving back and forth between the 76 gas station and Thriftway in Forks. Clearly, with my equally country-bumpkin-ish past, I have absolutely no business making fun of Sara.

However, I’m going to make fun of her anyway because … who starts a story like that??!!

I love ewe Sara.

For questions, comments, or other sheep thrills, email me at christyrasmussen@yahoo.com.

Much Ado About Mutton

By Christy Rasmussen-Ford

A few weeks ago, my co-workers and I were swapping stories of being pulled over for various traffic violations. My co-worker (whose name is not Sara and who is not a hostess) started her story with, “Once my brother and I were in the back of my dad’s truck holding onto our sheep … ”

*Alex, I’ll take ‘Story Starters That I Never Thought I’d Hear’ for 1,000, please.*

Wait, wait, wait … Back that farm truck up a minute. Where in the flock do people go around hauling their children and sheep around in the back of their truck? Well, as it turns out, this happens in Idaho regularly. Apparently, sheep are transported in the back of trucks with children hanging onto them for dear livestock. Contrary to what the nursery rhyme tells us, if you leave sheep alone, they don’t come home. They actually fall out the back of the truck.

Anyway, I’m sure that Sara’s story of being pulled over while holding onto sheep was an intriguing one. Most likely it was complete with tickets written based on the shear illegality of ovine-holding techniques, a short stint with her family on the lamb because the cops were totally fleecing them and just all around baaaaaaad luck with the law. Ewe know how those things go.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear the rest of the story because I am not mature enough to continue listening (like a respectful adult) when I hear something like, “ … in the back of the truck holding onto our sheep.” Once the jokes started, they never ended.

I’m fairly certain that most people would have joked after hearing this kind of thing, but I’m probably the last person you should tell a story like this to. I laughed for weeks. I was not sheepish about teasing her at all. Thankfully, she was a good sport about the wool thing.

Eventually, when the jokes started to get old (they’re still not completely dead … obviously), I came to a realization. I said to myself, “Hold up there Little Miss High Horse (not to be confused with Little Miss Bo Peep, Sara). What are you bleating around about? Are you really that much better than her?”

No. The truth is that I am not.

I can start at least three stories with, “Once, when I tried to ride a cow … ” And I was mostly sober for two of those stories, so I can’t even pull the “that was just the alcohol pulling the wool over my eyes.” Also, my first job was catching snakes for my grandparents for $1/snake, I once milked a goat in high heels, and the highlight of my weekend as a teenager was doing nothing but driving back and forth between the 76 gas station and Thriftway in Forks. Clearly, with my equally country-bumpkin-ish past, I have absolutely no business making fun of Sara.

However, I’m going to make fun of her anyway because … who starts a story like that??!!

I love ewe Sara.

For questions, comments, or other sheep thrills, email me at christyrasmussen@yahoo.com.