From the day her hooves hit our pastures, Ms. Wiggins and I had a special bond. As if it was a shared secret, we both knew instantly she was where she was meant to be. She is very matronly, reserved and quite. Therefore, it’s startling to hear her baritone baaa’s ripple out across the country air. You can’t help but turn your head in surprise! All you see blinking back at you is modest Ms. Wiggins.
Wiggins is the mother hen to all of the sheep in the pasture, dutifully watching over them as they spring about and play. As night falls she stays on the outer perimeter of the flock. One leg tucked under her generous body, the other jutting out, allowing herself to leap up and alert the others if need be.
The thing that I find the most interesting though is that this gal is afraid of her own shadow. She loves people and her own kind, but dogs, donkeys, or our farm UTV bolts her into a panic bounding away as her full fluffy body jiggles as she springs away to safety.
Wiggins is such a sweet motherly soul and my heart bursts with love for her.