Long story short. I was probably 7 or 8. Fed the sheep when I came home from school. Imagine 300 head of sheep chasing a scrawny kid carrying two five gallon buckets of milo. More often that not they knocked me down. In the spring the lot was like a slurry soup of manure and mud. One day they knocked me down under it.
Next thing was dad whopping me as I had the double barreled shotgun with both pockets full of shells headed for the sheep pen.
Thanks for the laugh. Much appreciated.
😮