Today my encounter was rather primal in nature. It was me and the ram. It’s my job to take the sheep out to pasture every day and then secure them so they don’t wreak gastronomical havoc. This is a normal part of life in Chugchilán, and I am sure if Chugchilánians were connected to the net they could confirm this, but they are not, so just take my word for it.
So it’s me and the ram, every morning. All he wants to do is be with the ewes. If I deny him this right, (which invariably I do) he butts me. If he happens to be above me on the hill, his charge is aimed squarely at my chest and packs extra punch, today he came from above. Instinctively I knew those two steps back meant he was about the ram, I braced myself, and prepared to catch a flying rams head, I caught it, then fell back into a swale, ending up with a bucking rams head in my hands only inches from my head.
I am sure this was far more a dramatic experience, for me, than the average Chuhchilánian.
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