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Sleep was so darn close she could nearly taste it. She lay on the bed and sank down...down...down into the soft douvet and felt her lead eyelids closing.

But first! She switched on the TV and had a squint at the sheep. The brightness made it difficult to discern the animals...but she could clearly see Sheep "Ten" in "The Corner" pawing away at the strae. Pacing. Pawing. Laying down. Standing right back up again. Pawing some more.

Classic "I AM IN LABOR!" language.

Our buxom Shepherdess let out a wretched groan and dragged herself up from the bed. All of the lambing pens were full and now she had to play Sheep Chess and figure out where on earth to jockey the twa ill yows ... and then clean out their pen with that "Kills all known Germs!" stuff and then...put them in the nissen and shift #6 into the clean pen and somehow herd all of the other sheep out of the main pen while somehow keeping Ten contained and then, somehow, some way, getting Ten to go all by her little lonesome out of the pen and doon the passage (she's a BIG Texel lass!) into the lonely ("Where's my flock?!?!") lambing pen without getting totally beat up by the sheep...

(Our Shepherdess counts nearly a dozen purple-yellow bruises around her legs and feet where she has been trampled, kicked and danced upon by yows in various states of irritation...)

Would #6 follow her lambs? Or would she stick to the lambing pen and wail piteously as our Shepherdess hauled her lambs away doon the passge while wheedling, "Sheep, sheep, sheep - come sheep!"

What about #14 and #16 the ill sheep - would THEY follow their lambs? And can our Shepherdess possible carry four strapping lambs at the same time??

In the name of all that is sacred!!! She needs at least six arms.

Sleep...sleep was nothing more then a distant dream...it didn't really exist. Oh no, it was a myth. A myth!!

Now our Shepherdess must gird her loins and go be holy.

Or something like that.