I can’t be the only one that’s terrified of sheep: with their curly horns that dig in you if you’re too slow getting out of the way; tiny piggy eyes that glare; tight woolly coats hiding all those blood sucking ticks; the rotting hooves and liver flukes. Not a healthy specimen in the whole flock. I hear the whistle; see the man walking towards the pen. I crouch low and wait for the second command. I try to hide my fear. One day I’ll apply for a new job maybe in drugs detection but today I have to be a Sheepdog.