Sheep Number 36

Sheep number 36 I must say, I can't complain About my living conditions The master provides me with grass And turnips if needed. I have access to plenty fresh water, And when my fleece is too thick He arranges for my all over cut I am up to date with all my vaccinations He ensures I won't get foot rot I am drenched, my tail is docked My sons are castrated (one less thing for a mother to worry about) I am treated for mastitis, fly strike, Ticks, lice, worms Our ears are tagged, The flock is dehorned or disbudded Occasionally, friends or neighbours vanish, If they have serious dental issues They are taken away to be culled I believe it's a permanent treatment Sometimes he takes my 6 week old lambs away He tells me this is because they're so tender This makes me proud. They are the chosen ones I am sheep number 36. I am quite distinctive. I have a twitch in my right eye You will usually find me under the oak tree Top right of the field, Nearest to gate where the grass is tallest None us lives past six years old Though a collie once told us sheep can live to twelve And one, reached twenty eight But collies are terrible liars And not to be trusted. And anyway, we aren't clock watchers We sheep live in the moment