Copyright 1995-2006 - Chuck Pritchard

POETS, BARDS & LIARS

 


Copyright 1996- Milo Yield

Woolly Ways To Die

Of all God's creatures in this world,
And I can't tell you why,
None can match a woolly sheep
When it comes to ways to die.

So let's review from experience
The ways I've seen sheep croak.
Let's start with one I saw keel over
From eating acorns from an oak.

I saw one agonizingly starve
Preparing to meet her fate.
And I watched one die in half a wink
From bloating o're what she ate

Another one that I recall
Met a death quite rare, I fear.
The necropsy on her swollen head
Found some tickle grass in her ear.

Yep, a sheep's head seems to find it's way
Into fatal circumstances.
Like hay twine nooses, wooden feeders,
Even buckets and woven fences.

And that soft, protective, woolly fleece
Makes it impossible to survive.
When wool maggots make themselves a home
And eat the poor sheep alive.

The peril of a sheep's life
Can begin before it's named,
When "Mama" sheep loves just one twin
And let's the other die unclaimed.

And too often on a frosty night
Chilled ram lamb and sister ewe
While penned beneath the heat lamp,
Get cooked well-done through and through.

Yet in the pen beside them
Two others die with ease
By wandering from the heat lamp,
To a dark corner where they freeze.

And, of course, a seasoned shepherd
Bands tail and testes of every lamb.
Then, naturally, infection claims
Three percent, what're I do, by damn!

The north end of a southbound sheep
Kills its owner so oft it pains us.
Discreetly described in vet med talk
As prolapsed uterus and anus.

One ewe got plumb creative…
And slid into an earthen crack
And died like a woolly turtle
Flipped upon her stupid back!

Lumpjaw, footrot, and abscessed tooth
Seem to always snare the best,
While over-heating and over-eating
Take a fair share of the rest.

Pneumonia, scrapies, and diarrhea
Selects victims from the flock.
While Wiley Coyote and his ilk
Pick off lambs around the clock.

And, don't for a minute think that rams
Are immune from freakish death
They fight and break their woolly necks
To bring on their last breath.

Three lambs I owned bit the dust
And caused me financial strife.
I ran over one. A gate fell on one.
And the other went through the ice.

Yep, sheep're the only critters I know
Who see life with a Kevorkian view.
Why go to the effort of living
When dying's so much easier to do?