Very best friends

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

Their names are Moe, Larry and Curley, but they are not who you might think. It's true that there are three of them, and that you'll rarely see one without the others, but that is where the similarities stop.

Larry, unlike the "Three Stooges'" Moe, is the gentle leader, though he totally failed at being a hair sheep. Two years running, he has not shed his winter coat in the manner that hair sheep are supposed to do. 

Just when I thought this failure had destined him to the freezer, he must have read my mind. He began to give me the sweetest sheep hugs whenever I approached, and sheep hugs are special. He leans hard into the side of my leg and looks up at me with imploring eyes that shine, "I promise to be your very best friend for the rest of our lives."

I have taken him at his word, and one of my very best friends he has become. I will say, however, that he looked like a very raggedy best friend after his first shearing. YouTube videos have a way of making sheep shearing seem so easy. I promise you it is not.

When Larry is not following me about with pure love in his eyes, he is graciously leading the girls about in search of those sheep things that he thinks they should be doing. In the heat of summer, he leads them into the shade. When the grass grows thin in the fall, he leads them to the last of the green, and when I call with an offer of fresh hay or treats, he trots right up to me, the girls smartly in tow.

Yes, Moe and Curley are two female hair sheep. Thankfully, they did manage to shed their winter coats with only a bit of helpful pulling on my part. Fawn-colored Moe is a gentle, shy, soul, not at all like her screen namesake, who was more of a short-tempered bully. It took well over a year for our Moe to approach and take an offered treat from my hand, and even now, she is cautious. She only comes to my outstretched hand once Larry and Curley are eagerly munching away. She actually reminds me of the creek valley deer, similarly colored, graceful and wary.

This now brings me to hair sheep Curley. She is a pretty little white and black creature. She trots right up for treats, but unlike hair sheep Larry, she never lingers for love. Once she has finished her treat, and knows that no more will be offered, she heads away, having better sheep-like things to do. I suppose that of the three, she is the most like her namesake. 

I remember the way Curley's childlike squeals of "whoop-whoop-whoop" would delight me when I was young, and how I was able to easily relate to this grown man who was more childlike than I. I imagine hair sheep Curley similarly calling "whoop-whoop-whoop" as she eagerly trots over for a treat. Once finished, she turns to head back out into the pasture, though she pauses with a backwards glance. It is then that I imagine her laughing with Curley's well known "yuck-yuck-yuck" as she makes sure she’s not going to miss out on one last treat. 

I do love this little herd. No matter the weather, scorching sun, wicked wind, or single-digit temperatures, I know that they will happily trot right up to greet me, but mostly, there is nothing like knowing the never-ending friendship of a dear creature who would lead his little herd straight to me all the way through the end of time.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in Ohio south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.