This is one of the wonderful churro sheep and his magpie friend that live about a mile from me. They are pretty much giant balls of yarn with a nose. I learned to love sheep in New Zealand. The ‘I owe ya one’ kind of love. I needed to cross a VERY large pasture that contained a VERY angry bull. I couldn’t return the way I came or the horrible swamp in the punga jungle would surely suck me to my death the second time. There is really no such thing as a punga jungle. But, in my ‘oh my God I could have died in there’ state of mind it seemed like a jungle. It was a bunch of punga trees that hid a slimy man-eating swamp with a mat of red stuff floating on top that made you think you could walk across it. So, back to the pasture. After three attempts at crossing the expanse and almost getting gored I spotted a nice friendly flock of sheep headed in the direction I needed to go. I slipped in between a couple of the kind beasts, grabbed onto their wool, made myself sheep size and got safely escorted to my destination. Good thing to know. The sheep password, ‘Baa Ram Ewe’.