Three sheep injured in a dog attack a while ago are still hurting and sick. I kept them in a small field where I could check them daily. One had been inches away from dying. Yesterday I wanted them to follow me to a new pasture. I had kept them fed, so they began to accept my presence. However, I also poked them with antibiotic shots and poured a vile liquid down their throat to kill the unseen invaders, a blood-sucking parasite that lives in their digestive system. So in their mind, food good, medicine bad. Yet, I’m the one who treated them kindly both times, but they don’t understand.
They did come, but as soon as they could grab their own first fresh bite of grass, they lost their focus. I kept calling which no longer worked, then I got behind them and pressured them to move into their new place. Hmm, sound familiar?
