So, we're hanging out, driving our rental car around on the Dingle Peninsula in Ireland, right? We're about 8 days in to our trip overseas, first time driving on the wrong side of the road, and we're just about getting used to it. We're twisting and turning down this beautiful windy road on the hillside, with the ocean to our left, and the greenest hill (with random sheep here and there) that you've ever seen on our right. The only thing preventing us from driving off this road and into the big blue ocean, is this wall of rocks (well, and St Pauly Boy's driving skills...nice job, honey!). This wall was hand built, from rocks all over the hillside, by the way. INSANE amount of work that must have been, lugging them up the hill with their wooden wheelbarrow. So anyway, we turn this corner and see something standing on the wall. I'm all like, what the hell is that?? Here's what I saw (by this time I had figured out what the object was):
I could spend the rest of my life in Ireland and not get tired of loving the sheep. I LOVED the sheep. It was all I could do from running up to hug them everytime we saw one....and for those of you who have been to the homeland, you know how many times that would actually be.
So we get closer.
I roll down my window and hear that the cute little sheep is talking. I squeal with excitement! Oh my god, the little sheep is talking, that's so cute honey, look at him!!! YAY SHEEP!!!!
We get even closer. At this point we're right along side of him. And with the roads being so freakishly narrow, I could reach my arm out of the car and pet him. I mean we were CLOSE. So, we stop the car where he's standing. I get my camera poised, I'm all excited, I take a picture, and all of a sudden he speaks. And what he had to say, I'm sure was profane in his sheep language. Although I'm not fluent, I am adept at understanding tone. And his tone said to me "I am p-i-s-s-e-d". PISSED.
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
I thought for a split second he was going to hop right into our car and begin his maming. But my reaction was more like SCREAM, drop the camera to the floor, St Pauly Boy slams on the gas, we peel out, fly around the corner, and leave that nasty sheep in the dust.
After we got around the corner, and we caught our breath, we were able to laugh about the angry swearing sheep. But in the heat of the moment, I feared for my safety. For my life.
But I'm not prejudiced against all sheep or anything. This was an isolated incident. I can hate that one angry sheep but it's not fair to stop loving the rest of them. I just hope that the angry-swearing-sheep-on-the-wall-in-dingle (ASSOTWID, if you will) has found the inner peace that he so badly needed. And I hope the car behind us on this road wasn't stupid enough to stop.
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