Holy Sheep's Balls

Holy Sheep’s Balls So when we got Travis, he had been banded, which means he was a ram lamb, but we didn’t need him to be a virile breeding sheep, we just needed him to be a mellow buddy sheep. So the farming custom (encouraged and performed by the vet) is to band the baby sheep (or goat) if you want a sheep that is sterile by putting a metal band around the tiny buds of nuts. The blood gets diminished going to that part of the body and eventually, as the vet told me while yawning, it just dries up and falls off. So I’ve been keeping an eye on Travis’s nuts, and they were getting smaller and tougher, but they weren’t falling off. He wasn’t in any pain, he didn’t mind at all when I would check them out and it certainly didn’t stop him from chasing the dog around like an insane dude or eating a ton of hay with Dewey the horse. But it had been 3 months, and she said it should only take about a month. So yesterday I went out and while he was eating hay I just bent down and looked at his little nut sack. It looks like a little cottony furball, so I bent it back and that’s when I saw that it wasn’t attached at all. It was just hanging there like a dried up little purse. It must’ve fallen off a long time ago, but since he’s made of wool, the wool was like Velcro and kept the nuts just stuck there in all the fluff. Like a ballsack matted hair clump. All his manhood erased and just stuck to the top of his leg there. So I pulled the little wooly bag off and then ahhk! I’m holding sheep’s balls. Dried, for your pleasure. Dried fluffy balls. In convenient soft wool covering. I have to say this is the first time this has happened to me. Travis was grateful to be rid of them, I think. He didn’t stop eating to let me know, but his horn buds aren’t growing because he has no testosterone, which will make him happier later, when his horns don’t get stuck in the fence or in the dog or in small children running by. Less balls means Travis will continue to be the silly and affectionate little guy that he already is, with no chance of him ramming us when we bend over like in Shirley Temple movies. Travis is very fond of a nice head scratch, all over body brush, or an old banana peel if you’re feeling generous. Travis runs over yelling HEYYYYYYY in his language when you open the gate and weaves in and out of the horse’s legs because he adores the horse. And he plays tag with the dog. He’s maybe the world’s greatest sheep, and he’s two balls lighter. I told Bess about Travis’s balls that night. I told her maybe I should send the balls to Chris for her birthday. I thought nobody probably thinks to send balls to anyone. Once you’ve held shed sheep parts in your hands, your life becomes radically silly.