Listen, we sheep absolutely love our crowds! And if you humans want to insult & judge each other til’ the cows come home, be my guest (and I can assure you, they rarely come home, they’re all about a good time). But you’re using our flock dynamics and nomenclature as an insult without ever bothering to consider our feelings. What did we ever do to you (besides reminding you of nature’s preciousness)?
We live the herd life with pride. We share the same habits (grass), passions (grass), and political ideologies (reduce your carbon pawprint…and grass). And just what is so terrible about casually grazing together? You know the ol’ saying, “safety in numbers”? The author of that quote is a sheep. We love doing things together and we will persist thusly because it increases our chances of survival, and that is nothing to be ashamed of!
Are there some holes in our system? Sure. Does a wolf sneak in once in a while? You bet. Does that wolf infiltrate the flock, disguised as one of us without our noticing, until that same imposter ruthlessly steals one of us away into the night with its treacherous jaws, shredding our fallen woolyback limb-from-limb until the bleats stop? Absolutely. We acknowledge our frailty. All the more reason to see us as symbols of integrity, not weakness! But something about your scornful tone and the assimilation of our adages—and our grins—doesn’t add up. Wait. Are you, like, obsessed with us?
I think what it comes down to, is you secretly WISH you were more like us. Not only are we better together and proud of it, but we are adorable. We are so adorable, in fact, that you dress to emulate us. Imagine humans being made into sweaters for sheep and then all of us sheep calling each other “humans!” with hateful intent. Hurts, doesn’t it!? Or at the very least, confuses you. The very animal you’ve clothed with your haircuts is not only dragging your good name through the mud but is totally taking for granted how cozy you’ve made them!
To add insult to injury, despite the various manifestations of your obvious sheep envy, you hoard us into your imagination in droves to run circuits, tirelessly, until you’re all dosed up on melatonin. I’m failing to see how we are anything but snuggly to you humans. We make you comfortable and you are infatuated with us.
I don’t mean to imply that all sheep are without flaws. Like I said, sometimes, we let a wolf into the flock by mistake. Sometimes one of us is brutally massacred by said wolf. Sometimes we look up at the clouds and think the sky is a mirror because we are just that fluffy, and while we’re looking at the clouds, bam, another wolf. But hey, we try. All in all, we are survival-oriented, company-enjoying, gentle, comfort providers and I will not stand by as our legacy dissolves into human indignity. Besides, you like us. Like, you like-like us.
At any rate, your unhealthy fixation with us is souring our reputation and infecting the morale of our younger generation. More and more lambs are ditching the graze to make protest posters they hold in their mouths which say things like, “Baaasalkjdlkj” (it is hard to write with cloven hooves, but you can feel their contemptuous tone). Just the other day, my own little Eloise declared, “I don’t want to grow up! I don’t want to be a sheep!” I nearly spat out my grass, which goes against all my habits, passions, and political ideologies. Lambs are disappearing into the night and often never seen again. Maybe it’s those goddamned wolves; maybe they’re starting a bleat generation. There is rumour of a rebel pasture where they will eventually rise up and create a resistance—but we can’t know that for sure. I, for one, am not just going to wait around for that like a human baby to the slaughter. OH, DOES THAT SOUND RIDICULOUS? WELL FUCK ME, I GUESS. You wish.
I’m going to be honest with you, your chances aren’t good. They’re not unfathomable, but they’re slim. And you’re not going to get anywhere with us if you keep using our name disdainfully. Are all humans twelve years old or what?
If you’d like to get some positive attention from us, may I suggest redefining the term “sheep” as a form of flattery? Here are some sample compliments:
“Hey Betty, nice sweater, did a sheep give that to you?”
Anyway, you can think of more on your own. It’s been at least three minutes since I’ve grassed and I have to get back to grass. Grass.